


Electrify

by Please_Call_Me_Cordelia



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Manipulation, Sensuality, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 128,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Please_Call_Me_Cordelia/pseuds/Please_Call_Me_Cordelia
Summary: It's been two years since the end of the Hundred Year War.  Katara and Zuko are finding it increasingly difficult to deny the feelings they have for each other, but Mai is none too happy.  Katara is taken captive by a fugitive Ozai and the world turns upside down.  But what if everything she thought she knew was not as it seemed?Katara/Zuko, Katara/Ozai





	1. Chapter 1

A strong sudden breeze swept across Ember Island, carrying with it the scent of sea water and incense.  The leaves of the palm trees whispered to each other as the wind frolicked through their branches.  Katara leaned back against a tree and closed her eyes as the breeze tousled her hair; it was a welcome change from the still calm of the evening air, but left her wanting, as it did little to provide relief from the heat.  The mid-summer night was warm and thick with humidity, causing the natural curl in Katara’s hair to spring to life.  It had taken her a long time to get used the stifling temperatures in the Fire Nation; she and her friends had remained at the palace as the new Fire Lord’s guests of honor after Ozai’s defeat nearly two years ago, and she was just now finally coming to terms with the heat.

As the breeze died down, Katara became suddenly aware of how quiet everyone had become.  Everything was so calm and peaceful.  For the first time that night, she noticed the beautiful serenade of the crickets and cicadas all around them, with the occasional hoot of an owlcat chiming in now and then.  The very small bonfire that flickered several feet in front of Katara added to the serenity, casting a soft glow on all the faces present.  This made her smile slightly as she glanced around at her friends, who seemed to be lost in their own thoughts for the moment. 

Aang as usual was close by, seated to her left and leaning back slightly, supporting his weight on his right arm with Momo dozing peacefully on his feet.  He was gazing contentedly out toward the horizon and Katara could tell by his posture that he was perfectly relaxed.  Next to Aang, Toph was lying nonchalantly with her legs stretched out in front of her and her arms crossed beneath her head, looking completely unperturbed.  To Katara’s right sat Zuko, resting back against an adjacent tree, with Mai close beside on his right.  He was gazing intently into the fire as though in a trance, watching the way the gentle flames danced together, while Mai was inspecting her fingernails, looking bored.  Next to Mai sat Sokka with his arm around Suki, both of them gazing off at the radiating lights on the horizon. 

The group formed a half circle around the fire, facing the shoreline.  The gentle slope on which they were sitting rose from the sandy shore and up to the grassy turf around Zuko’s beach house.  A mixture of grass and sand mingled between their toes.  From that small hill, they could make out the glow of thousands of candles and lamps burning off in the distance in Caldera City, the Fire Nation capital.

A flash of red against the night sky in the distance, followed by a faint drum roll of pops and sizzles, caught the group’s attention and shook them all out of their respective trances.  “Hey guys, the fireworks have started!” Suki exclaimed as she clasped her hands together, livening the daze-like mood that had befallen them for several minutes.  From where they were sitting, they had a spectacular view of the display, even if it was quite far away.  Beautiful bursts of yellows, reds, blues, and greens adorned the sky; some even took on the shape of fire lilies and the national emblem.  It was the most impressive display Katara had ever seen.

The remarkable exhibit of lanterns and fireworks marked the annual celebration of the Illumination Festival in the Fire Nation.  The festival began centuries ago, long before Sozin’s War, in the days when the four nations lived together in harmony; before the Fire Nation’s rulers had become intent on “spreading their greatness” and corrupted by their lust for power and world dominance.  It had been meant to symbolize the eternal triumph of good over evil, light over darkness – the light that empowers all people to commit themselves to doing the right thing no matter the cost, and to always try to see the good in themselves and in others.  The festival begins on the first day of the summer solstice, and lasts for five days, one day to commemorate each of the four nations and one day to celebrate the unity they share.  During those five days, candles and lamps illuminate every corner of Caldera City as well as the large neighboring cities, fireworks are displayed every night, and the scent of incense wafts through the air.

However, during the reigns of Fire Lord Sozin and Fire Lord Ozai, the holiday had been belittled and subsequently repackaged in line with their power-hungry worldview, cunningly whittled down through the decades to nothing more than a celebration of the Fire Nation’s greatness and a symbol that their nation would always triumph above the others.  Future generations would never know the difference.

Zuko had made a point to change that when he took the throne as the new Fire Lord.  It was the second year of the revival of the true Illumination Festival since his coronation; the first year had been joyful and celebratory, but there was still an unmistakable air of hesitancy among the people, most of whom had never celebrated it for its true meaning.  This year was different.  For the first time in over one hundred years, the festival’s renowned jubilant vibe was reborn, seeming to take on the meaning that was intended as the nations entered into a new era of promised peace and harmony.  As Fire Lord, it was Zuko’s duty to give a speech on the first day to kick off the festival; he had spoken wholeheartedly about the renewed significance of this day, not only for the Fire Nation but for all the world.  Afterward there came a resounding cheer as the musicians struck up the drums and sungi horns and the festivities began.  Mimes, fire breathers, and skilled dancers performed in the streets; colorful tents lined the walkways for vendors of face-painting, flaming fire flakes, and the Fire Nation’s signature festival masks.  At dusk that evening, the entire city was illuminated by the lighting of thousands of candles, lanterns, and lamps in nearly every home, shop, and the city streets.  It was a magnificent sight to behold.

The gang had eaten and danced and sang and mimed and face-painted their hearts out the first day, finally winding down in joyous exhaustion as they watched the fireworks that night from the palace balcony.  It had been Zuko’s suggestion to spend the remainder of the holiday relaxing at his family’s beach house on Ember Island and the rest of the gang happily agreed.

The next morning they had piled on Appa with a few belongings in tow and arrived shortly at their destination.  After settling in and deciding on sleeping arrangements, the gang had spent the rest of the day basking lazily in the sun or swimming off shore, spending time both as a group and occasionally wandering off in twos or threes to pursue an activity that did not appeal to everyone.  Aang and Toph had been the first to branch off from the group, going off to spar together to perfect some new earthbending moves; Sokka and Suki had strolled off hand in hand on a romantic walk down the coast; Mai had wandered off by herself to a new artsy saké shop that had recently opened in town.  And being the only ones left, Katara and Zuko had simply remained on the shore, sitting side by side on the wet sand as the foamy blue-green waves washed up and lapped at their feet. 

The two of them had spent quite a bit of time together with the group in the months celebrating the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai.  Ever since she and Zuko had taken down Azula together, it was as though something between them had clicked, a deeper understanding and respect for the other, and there was a magnetism between them that seemed to draw them to each other.  But in the past few months they had been spending increasingly more time alone together, away from the group.  Sometimes they would go off on a walk to clear their minds, sometimes to vent and listen to each other’s frustrations, more often than not these days concerning their significant others.  The fact that both Aang and Mai lacked the passion both of them wished for was one of the more frequent matters of discussion.  They were so alike in many ways that it was refreshing to share their joys and burdens with each other.  Other times on a full moon when Katara was unable to sleep, Zuko would stay up to keep her company.  On more than one occasion this had frustrated Mai, to the extent that she had implied he was in the market for a new girlfriend.  When of course he had denied it, Katara was confused by the slight sinking sensation she had felt near her heart.

They had spent hours talking and laughing that afternoon on the beach, reminiscing, sharing stories and sometimes just a quiet smile.  Had it not been for Aang and Toph returning to the house, they probably would have carried on like that until dusk.  It may have been her imagination, but she could have sworn she had seen a hint of jealousy flash across the young Avatar’s face.  She was fairly certain it had not been the first time.

“Wow that one looked just like a spewing volcano!” exclaimed Sokka.

“Yeah, they seem to have really gone all out this year,” Zuko stated, making a feeble attempt to mask his enthusiasm. 

Katara smiled at how unwittingly transparent he could be at times.  Her head still leaning back complacently against the tree, she turned to look at him, still smiling softly.  Zuko’s peripheral vision picked up on the movement and he instinctively turned to look at her; he returned her gentle smile with his own, and their entwining gaze lingered just long enough to cause the slightest flutter in her stomach.  She blushed and looked away.

Why was he having this effect on her lately?  It seemed that increasingly over the past several months, whenever she was in close proximity to Zuko or her eyes met his, she would get those same butterflies in her stomach or her heart would tremble ever so slightly.  She recognized it as the unmistakable reaction one has to a person they are romantically attracted to.  But it was crazy to think that she could have developed feelings for Zuko; she was in a serious relationship with Aang.  They had even talked about becoming engaged to be married soon.  She loved Aang.  Really, she did.  _Who are you trying to convince?_ her father’s voice echoed in her head, one of the classic phrases he loved to use on her.

Her body was probably just confused because she had come to develop such a close friendship with Zuko.  _He means so much to me, and we understand each other’s burdens so completely that my body is just misinterpreting those feelings for something more_.  That must be it.  It was a completely logical explanation; she was certain she had figured out the mystery that had been taunting her over the last few months.

“Now _those_ were some fireworks,” Sokka proclaimed as the show came to an end, leaning back on one arm and gesturing toward the horizon.  “Just when you thought they couldn’t get any better, you were all like, ‘Ooh!’ and then, ‘Whoa!’ and then like, ‘Holy sparrowkeet!’ Did you guys see the one that looked exactly like a Fire Navy ship?  Incredible!”

“They were pretty amazing,” agreed Aang.  “What did you think, Katara?”

The sound of her name was like a hand reaching into her daze and wrenching her out of it headfirst.  For a moment she sat there blinking, dumbfounded, unable to recall the question that had been directed toward her.  And then suddenly to her relief it came rushing back to her, the echo of Aang’s voice in her head.

“Oh… yeah, they were nice.”  Katara looked around at her silent friends as they stared at her with unenthused expressions.  Clearly they were underwhelmed by her lackluster response.  Their attention made her feel embarrassed as she twisted her hands together in her lap.  “They were great.  I mean, wow, they were really…” she could feel herself overcompensating now, with hand gestures to match.  She was relieved when Toph cut her off.

“You weren’t even watching them, were you, Sugar Queen?”

“Of course I was watching them, Mud Slug!” Katara retorted, a little more harshly than she had intended.

“It certainly didn’t _seem_ that way.”

_Damn Toph and her freaky lie-detecting senses_. 

“…No, I was watching,” Katara faltered, becoming increasingly defensive, “I was just… admiring some of the other scenery too.  It’s a beautiful night, I just got distracted at times.”

“I know,” Toph said with a smirk that made Katara’s face flush bright red.  Whoever said blindness has anything to do with sight had clearly never met Toph Bei Fong.  Those unseeing hazel eyes of hers had a way of seeing into people, reading them and unearthing their lies and secrets, and that was unnerving.  Katara hoped with all her might that Toph had not sensed the exchange between Zuko and herself, but she knew deep down that that was hope wasted.

The tension was severed by a heavy, frustrated sigh.  “I don’t know about the rest of you,” Mai said, her usual monotone a bit more acerbic than usual, “but I’m going to bed.”  Without another word or backward glance, she climbed back up the slope toward the house and disappeared inside.  Katara slid an uneasy glance at Zuko, who met her gaze knowingly and averted his eyes downward as if to say _Yeah, I picked up on it too_.  After a momentary awkward hush, the rest of the group shrugged it off casually, and both Zuko and Katara sighed inaudibly in relief as their shoulders relaxed in unison.

“Well, I’m not tired yet,” said Toph, livening the mood.  “How about we play a game?”

“Come on, Toph.  A game?” Sokka replied slightly disapprovingly.  “We’re not kids anymore.”

“I know.  That’s why I brought _this_!” she proclaimed, pulling a large bottle of liquor out of the satchel she had been carrying.

“Where did you get that?!” Katara asked, shocked that her friend had managed to get a hold of such a large bottled of alcohol.

“From a peddler I met on the road during the festival in Caldera City yesterday.  He cut me a good deal too,” she announced proudly.

“Well put it away, we’re not playing a drinking game,” Katara scolded her.

“I don’t know, Katara.  It could be fun.”  All eyes turned to Aang in surprise.  “What?” he shrugged.  “I mean, we’re on vacation in a safe spot and we don’t plan on going anywhere.  Why not?”

“I don’t know…” her hesitancy was wavering, but she still felt unsure about it.

“Aang’s right, Katara,” Sokka chimed in.  “It’ll be some good laugh-inducing, let-loosening fun.  What’s the game called, Toph?”

“The game is called ‘Never Have I Ever.’  It’s a great game to play if you want to see how many skeletons people are hiding in their closets.”  She shot a subtle smirk in Katara’s direction as the words left her mouth and Katara sent a clandestine glare back at the earthbender even though she could not see her.  “We all sit in a circle and we each take turns passing the bottle around.  Whoever is holding the bottle says, ‘Never have I ever…’ and follows it up with a statement that is true for them.  Then we pass the bottle around the circle, and anyone who has done whatever was said has to take a drink.  For example, if I am holding the bottle and I say, ‘Never have I ever sniffed my own farts and liked it,’ we’d pass the bottle around and Sokka would take a drink.”

“Hey!” Sokka shouted in protest as the others laughed.

“The point is to try to get your friends to take drinks as much as possible, but you have to keep it the truth.  So you guys wanna play?”  They all agreed in unison and closed the gaps between them to sit in a full circle.  “Okay then, I’ll start.”  Toph cleared her throat and pondered for a few seconds before continuing.  “Never have I ever… been to the Southern Water Tribe.”

The bottle was passed around and Aang, Katara, Zuko, and Sokka all took swigs from it as it made its way around the circle to Sokka who was seated next to Toph.

“Okay, my turn.  Never have I ever been blind.”

“That was cold.”

“That was for saying I like the smell of my own farts!”

Toph smiled and took a drink, passing the bottle around the circle again to Suki.

“Hmm, okay let’s see.  Umm… never have I ever, uh, crossdressed,” she finally said triumphantly as she glanced teasingly at Sokka.  The group giggled at his feigned offense as first Aang took a drink and then Sokka.

“You’ve crossdressed, Twinkle Toes?” Toph chortled.

“I once dressed up like Avatar Kiyoshi in order to convince an Earth Kingdom village that I didn’t want to harm them.”

“With makeup and all,” added Sokka.

“You never told me that!” exclaimed Suki, grinning wildly.  “I would have paid to see that.”

“You do have the craziest adventures.”

“I guess it’s my turn,” Zuko said, sitting Indian-style with his elbows propped up on his knees.  He kept his gaze turned downward, looking pensive as he turned the bottle in his hands.  “Never have I ever died.” 

Several surprised gasps and nervous giggles erupted as all eyes turned from Zuko to Aang to gauge his reaction.  Aang just shrugged and took a drink, passing the bottle along until it circled back to Katara.  She felt Zuko’s fingertips graze her own as she took the bottle from him, and the sensation sent a tingle through her arm and up to her cheeks where it manifested itself into a deep blush.  She cursed her teenage hormones and hoped that he did not notice.

“Okay, hmm.  Never have I ever been banished from my country,” she said with an impish grin.

“Oh that’s how we’re playing now, is it?” Zuko said, finally brightening up a bit.  “Okay, we can play like that.”  Everyone snickered as Zuko snatched the bottle from Katara’s hand and took a gulp of the liquor and then passed it down the circle until it reached Aang.  He thought for a moment before finally perking up.

“Never have I ever pretended to be someone I’m not.”  Toph took a drink wordlessly and then Zuko, who glowered and muttered something inaudible under his breath.

Finally the bottle reached Toph once again.  “Never have I ever made out with Jet.”

Katara winced and shot daggers at the blind girl.  “How did you know about that?” she snarled.

“I didn’t.  You told me, just now.”  Katara grumbled incoherently at her own naivety and took a drink, as Aang and Zuko cried out in unison, “You made out with Jet?!”

“Yeah… so what?!” she retorted, becoming defensive.

“My baby sister…” Sokka said in sullen disbelief.  “Did he deflower you?!”

“Sokka!” Suki scolded, as everyone turned to a blushing Katara for her answer.

“Can we please just move on?” Katara pleaded, crossing her arms.  She refused to give them any more ammunition to use against her.

“Okay, Sokka, it’s your turn,” Toph said, holding the bottle out to him.

“That wasn’t a no!” Sokka cried out, pointing at his sister, the other hand on his head, his mouth gaping in disbelief.  He did not even seem to hear her, so she took the bottle back.

“Alright,” she began, “I have an idea – how about anyone who wants to take a turn can go, there’s no order anymore.  This should liven things up a notch or two.  Show no mercy.”  Katara looked pleadingly at Toph as if to say _Please, don’t_ , but she knew it was useless.  She just hoped Toph did not really know as much about her as it seemed she did.

The game carried on through roars of laughter at others’ expense, building and building, each claim becoming less about the game and more about taking a good-natured jab at a friend and making the others drink. 

_Never have I ever shaved my head_.

_Never have I ever eaten meat_.

_Never have I ever bent an element_.

_Never have I ever streaked in public_ … 

The alcohol began taking its effect, the night pierced by hoots and howls and side-splitting laughter.  Aang became slaphappy and Toph was more arrogant and frank than ever. Sokka told more bad jokes than usual and transformed into a suave, debonair macho-man, dropping lame pickup lines to Suki, who was much more aggressive and competitive under the influence.  Katara became incurably giggly and flirtatious, and Zuko was unexpectedly talkative and teasing, even losing his inhibitions at times to a case of the giggles (to everyone’s surprise) with Katara.

… _put my friend’s hand in warm water to see if they would pee_. 

… _been attracted to anyone here_.

… _had a sex dream about anyone here_. 

“I have never caught or overheard my parents having sex,” Sokka stated.  Everyone cringed, especially Zuko who chugged back a good gulp from the bottle to everyone’s dismay.

“Are you serious?” Katara laughed at the expression on Zuko’s face as he was forced to recall the memory.

“I wish I wasn’t.  I was eight years old and I had just woken up from a horrible nightmare.  I knew I was too old to be running to my parents in fright, but at the time I was too scared not to.  Boy did I wish I’d stayed in bed and succumbed to my fears after that.”

“My turn,” Katara called, sneering at Toph with a vengeful glimmer in her eye.  She was determined to knock her down a peg or two.  “I have never betrayed my parents by running away from home.”  The earthbender glowered at her and took a drink and then held onto the bottle.  Her scowl transformed to an eerie grin.

“I’ve got one.  I’ve never had feelings for two people at once.”

Katara inhaled sharply and sat frozen, unwilling to believe what Toph had just said.  She had been trying to tell herself lately that she did not have feelings for Zuko, but she had to admit it tasted like a lie.  And if Toph had picked up on it…  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zuko turn to look at her and then Aang on the other side.

“Aren’t you going to take a drink, Katara?” Toph chided, holding out the bottle.  Katara took it from her harshly and threw it back, taking a large swig.

“What is she talking about, Katara?” asked Aang hesitantly, as though he were afraid of the answer, the slaphappy grin slowly fading from his face.

“Yeah, what is she talking about, Katara?” echoed Sokka.  Suddenly a hand reached out in front of her and took the liquor bottle.  Looking to her right, she saw Zuko downing a large gulp as well.  He cast her a fleeting glance and then looked down to hide the smirk on his face.  Her eyes widened as her mind raced through the implications.  Could it be possible?

“Wait – both of you have?” Aang questioned, beginning to sound dismayed.  Katara’s heart began to race.  Was he starting to suspect?

“Feelings are complicated, Aang.  No big deal.”  She smiled thankfully at his attempt to smooth it over.

Aang was about to object when Sokka cut in.  “Are you sure you didn’t have a secret thing with Haru?  It was Jet and Haru, wasn’t it?”  Katara felt relief wash over her as her brother unwittingly came to the rescue.  He had not caught on.  She just nodded faintly, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to admit the truth behind the earthbender’s claim.  Perhaps it was the relief mixed with an awkward situation and alcohol, but she suddenly had an inexplicable urge to burst out laughing.  She was trying desperately to smother the smile that was building on her face.  Looking at Zuko, she noticed the smirk he was trying to hide as well and when he glanced back up at her it was only made worse.  A small snicker escaped her pursed lips as she tried to hold back the laughter, but soon the dam broke, and she was giggling uncontrollably.  She knew it made no sense, she had no idea what she was even laughing about considering the close call that was still far from resolved, but she could not stop.  It was all just so awkward and her head was too clouded to think straight, all she could do was laugh.  Soon Zuko lost his composure as well, and his smirk erupted into the same torrent of laughter.  She blamed the alcohol. 

“I think this is probably a good sign that we should call it a night,” Suki said.  “Besides,” she said through a yawn, “I’m feeling really sleepy all of sudden.”

“Lightweight,” Sokka teased.  “Am I going to have to carry you to bed?”

Suki laughed.  “If I’m forced to drink any more of this, you just might.”

“Oh well then drink up.”  She pushed him teasingly and they both chuckled.

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough too,” said Aang in an unfamiliar tone, the giddiness of before seeming to have disappeared.  It did not go unnoticed to Katara.  He was troubled, and she was afraid she knew why.  She just hoped it would be as easy to pull the wool over Aang’s eyes as it was Sokka’s, but that was unlikely; he could be far more perceptive than her brother.  She needed to take some time to mull things over and get her head straight.  She had to confront the conflicting emotions that she had swept under the rug for so long.  Zuko was right; feelings were complicated.


	2. Chapter 2

Mai lied in bed with her hands folded across her diaphragm, staring vacantly up at the bamboo plank ceiling above her.  The sun had long since risen and she had been awake for hours, but she could not find the will to get out of bed.  The ebb and flow of the cheerful voices somewhere outside her window only made her want to sink deeper into the gloomy solitude of her room.  The laughter of that waterbender made her hands clench sporadically; it might as well have been the screech of fingernails on slate.  When had she come to hate her so?

How much time had passed, she could not say, but she suddenly became aware of the quiet that had gradually set in and the absence of any sound of life from outside.  Driven by sheer curiosity, Mai finally eased her way out of bed and plodded over to the window.  Nothing.  There was no one in sight.  They had not even cared to check on her before they had taken off somewhere.  A slight pang of hurt stung her chest, but she ignored it, refusing to admit even to herself that she cared.

She creaked open her door and trudged down the hallway to the main doorway, unbolting the double doors and swinging them open.   She shielded her eyes as the brilliant white light of day blinded her momentarily; it had not seemed so dark in the house, but now she realized just how little natural light actually got in.  A burst of salty ocean breeze struck her face, making the breath catch in her throat, and whipped her raven hair around her face.  It took her eyes a moment to adjust, but she could see that the landscape was devoid of human life, as she had suspected.  She scanned the horizon once more, about to turn back inside, when a small dark shape on the shore caught her attention.  Squinting and looking harder, the silhouette of the young avatar finally formed itself in her vision.  Aang was sitting all alone, which she thought was odd.  He was such an attention junky, always hamming it up around other people; she could not remember a time she had seen him alone.  She contemplated turning back inside and letting him be, but curiosity got the better of her and she found herself making her way down the rigid stone stairway along the slope to the shore.

She called out to him, but her words were lost to the wind, taken hostage and carried away.  She waited to speak again until she had nearly come up behind him.  Aang was sitting on the wet sand, hugging his knees to his chest.  He looked deep in thought and possibly troubled.  She did not want to startle him so she simply said, “Hey.”

He only turned his head halfway around to acknowledge that he had heard her and then returned to his previous position.  After a moment, he responded listlessly, “Hey.”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?”  When he did not respond right away, she thought she should shift her tactic a bit.  “Where is everyone?”

Aang shrugged lethargically.  “Some of them said something about going somewhere... I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”

“Oh,” she said, not knowing how to respond.  He was clearly not his usual upbeat self.  “Well, do you know where Zuko went?”

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask _Katara_.”  His tone was unusually cutting and sarcastic.  His response made her stomach churn with a familiar feeling, one she had experienced frequently as of late.

“What do you mean?” she asked with a bitter hesitancy in her voice.

 “I think you know what I mean.  You must have noticed the way they’ve been acting, how much more time they’ve been spending together over the last few months.  And sometimes the way they look at each other – and it’s not just a glance, but something meaningful, like there’s a secret they’re sharing.”  Aang sighed.  “Am I just reading into things?  Maybe I’m just being a jealous boyfriend; she’s allowed to have other friends who are guys.  Am I being ridiculous?”

Mai did not respond right away, but sat down next to him.  A seagull swooped overhead toward the glistening waves, screeching as it circled once or twice and then dived down to emerge with a silvery fish slapping in its beak.  It flew away with a gloating confidence to enjoy its deftly obtained meal.

“You’re not being ridiculous,” Mai finally uttered after what seemed like a long silence.  “I’ve picked up on it too, since a while ago actually.  At times I also thought that I was just being jealous.  But then last night, when I said I was going to bed – I wasn’t actually tired.  I had seen the two of them looking over at each other all evening.  I’m sure Zuko thought I didn’t notice it, but I did.  And then what Toph said about Katara being distracted and not watching the fireworks, that just put me over the edge.  She had noticed it too and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Aang hesitated a moment, ingesting what Mai had just disclosed.  Why had he not noticed that?  “There was something that Toph said last night, after you had gone, that bothered me too.  We were playing the game ‘Never Have I Ever’ and we were all a little drunk.”  He blushed and smiled embarrassedly at her quizzical expression.  “It was her turn and she looked _directly_ at Katara and said, ‘I’ve never had feelings for two people at once.’  Sokka seemed to think she meant Jet and Haru, and maybe she did.”  He looked over at Mai, hoping to get some kind of reassurance, but was only met with a doubtful air that seemed to say _Yeah, right_.  He frowned and continued.  “But if she was referring to what I’m afraid she was, then all my suspicions are confirmed.”

Mai was silent for several moments, staring out over the sea, her brows furrowed in jaded vexation.  As difficult as it was to stomach, she knew that she could not keep making excuses for Zuko’s behavior or accepting his lukewarm denials of her suspicions.  She finally had to admit that it really was as bad as she had feared.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this too, Aang,” she finally said as she rose to a standing position, her hands on her hips, still staring out toward the horizon.  She turned to walk in the opposite direction as Aang’s voice rang out.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m going to find Zuko.  I’m gonna confront him with everything I know and give him one more chance to come clean and explain his side.  That way if we do end it, at least my conscience can rest knowing I did what I could.”

 _End it?_ Aang thought.  He suddenly felt as though someone had kicked him in the gut; he had not thought it would ever actually escalate to that.  Could Katara really have substantial feelings for Zuko?  Or worse, could it have gone farther than he had realized – was she all-out cheating on him behind his back?  His head was clouded and spinning and he felt his avatar state creeping upon him.  _No, I’m not going to react this way_.  He had excelled at controlling his avatar state since his duel with the former Fire Lord.  He relaxed his body, closed his eyes, and slowly breathed in deeply through his nose, exhaling slowly through his mouth.  He repeated this process a few more times until he felt his encroaching avatar state subside. 

Aang opened his eyes again.  The afternoon sun was creeping across the sky, weaving its way in and out of billowy white clouds.  He realized that it was probably past time for lunch, but his appetite eluded him.  He reclined his back flat on the sand, letting his arms fall straight out to the sides, and looked up at the sky, seeing a couple of birds flitting high above in a whimsical dance.  _To be so carefree_ , he thought.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“Where are we going?” asked Katara, trailing closely behind Zuko along the green hills behind the beach house.  The tall grass nipped and tickled her legs as she swept through it, the sea wind brushing the hair down around her neck.

“To a place I used to go a lot as a kid.  I haven’t been there in years.  Azula and I used to play there when we were young, back when my family was still happy.  And later, when my parents started arguing more, I’d go there to get away from it.”

 “That’s kind of sad.”

“I guess so.  The funny thing is when I think of that place, I don’t feel sad.  I guess it’s because the peace and quiet comforted me and made me feel safe.  It made me feel hidden, like no one would find me.  Plus there’s something kinda special about it that I want you to see.”  He turned around and smiled, extending his hand to help her down a sudden slope.  “We’re almost there now.”  He pointed to a rock formation that jutted from the lush hillside of the island.  It was much smaller than most of the other rock formations she had noticed surrounding the beach house.  She had not seen it before; it was barely noticeable from the house due to the hilly landscape.

They arrived at the rocky structure which Katara realized was in fact the mouth of a cave.  Zuko held out his hand to her.  “It gets a little dark inside, I don’t want you to trip on the jagged floor.”  Katara smiled, looking a little leery.  “Don’t worry we won’t be going far,” he reassured her.  She nodded and let him lead her inside.

As they entered, Katara noticed that the floor of the cave began to descend quite steeply.  They were actually trekking below ground.  The thought gave her a kind of strange excitement.  She understood what Zuko had meant; it really did feel like she was hidden and safe.

Suddenly he stopped, standing f for a moment as though he were waiting for something, and then relaxed and let her hand drop from his gently.  “Yep, this is it,” he said with a satisfied smile.

Katara looked around to examine their surroundings, blinking away the darkness.  A soft white glow from up above where they had entered was the only source of light in the cavern.  Once her eyes adjusted, she was taken aback to discover the surprisingly large size of the cave.  It was separated into chambers of a sort by towering, naturally formed rock pillars, and the chamber in which they stood was easily the size of a small Earth Kingdom cathedral, probably three stories high.  She could see that as the cavern continued into darkness, the chambers grew ever taller and more massive.  The stone walls shimmered like draperies around them, reflecting the light from above, and her eyes caught the glisten of an occasional crystal-clear pool of water.  It was a subterranean wonderland like she had never seen.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing,” Katara muttered, nearly speechless. 

“Well that’s not all,” declared Zuko with an eager smile.  He took her hand and led her to a rocky ledge that protruded from the wall, sitting them both down.  “If you are really quiet and you listen really closely,” he went on, his hand still resting on hers, “you can hear the cavern rocks sing.”  Katara blushed deeply as she became agonizingly aware that he had no intention of removing his hand from hers.  She cast him a feigned skeptical look at his story in an attempt to playfully mask her racing heart.  “Really,” he elaborated.  “When the wind currents rush through chasms and holes in the rocks, it creates a symphony of unique and beautiful tones that resonate throughout the chambers in harmony.  But sometimes you have to listen for a little while before you hear it.” 

Zuko wrapped his hand around hers just so slightly that she could have convinced herself that she had imagined it.  But when she turned to look at him straight on, his expression told her it had not been her imagination.  He was looking at her with a deeper, more earnest look than he had before.  Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst from her chest.

“Katara,” he began, making no attempt to hide the new solemnity in his voice, “there’s another reason I wanted to bring you here.  There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.  Something I’ve wanted to say to you for a while, but I didn’t think I could before.”  He faltered then, averting his eyes in nervousness.  Katara was certain she knew what he wanted to say; she had been feeling it too, but had been trying to brush it off as something else.  She wanted to tell him, to get the load off her chest, but she was not sure she had the courage.  Part of it was guilt.  How could she do this to Aang behind his back without at least first being honest with him about her feelings?  She at least owed him that much.  But there she sat with Zuko, who was still holding her hand in his and attempting to bare his soul to her.   In spite of everything she knew was right, she suddenly found herself reaching her free hand up to him and tenderly turning his face so that he was looking at her again.  Zuko’s golden eyes pierced her soul as he gazed into hers.  He inched closer to her and closed the small gap between their bodies; his face was mere inches away from hers now.  The butterflies that had returned to flutter recklessly inside her were interrupted by a haunting hum resounding within the cave.  It was soon joined by another and then another humming, until a full chorus echoed in harmony around them.

“They really are singing!”  Katara smiled widely at Zuko, whose expression seemed to say teasingly, _I told you so_.  Their eyes lingered together for a long moment, their separate smiles melting into the same intense gaze.  Zuko leaned forward slightly and ever so slowly, not wanting to make the wrong move.  Katara understood and leaned in toward him a little, encouraging him but too nervous to close the whole distance herself.  That was all the reassurance he needed.  Slowly yet earnestly, he closed the gap between them and softly locked his lips onto hers.  A bolt of electricity shot through Katara’s body as Zuko’s lips connected with her own, and the sensation caused her to inhale in pleasure.  He placed his free hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss.  Katara gently cupped his face, caressing the tough skin of his scar with her fingertips.  She had been the only person he had ever allowed to touch his scar, and that had only deepened the connection between them.

This was all so different from the way she had felt whenever Aang kissed her.  It had been nice, but that’s all it had been – nice.  It had lacked the passion she had craved from a man who was in love with her and she with him.  And it certainly never made her feel like this.  She suddenly realized that his was how a kiss was supposed to feel – she had never felt this way with Aang because her heart never really belonged to him, not in the way he wanted it to.

Zuko finally softened the kiss and slowly released his lips from hers.  His eyes still closed, he exhaled passionately as he rested his forehead against hers.  The hand that had been on her shoulder, pulling her in, relaxed and slid down to rest gently on her forearm.  Katara wished the moment would never end; the way he held her so close to him, so passionately yet so tenderly, was like water to her thirsty heart, what she had been craving for so long.  He leaned back slightly so that his eyes locked with hers.  Brushing back a stray hair that had fallen around her face, he smiled faintly as he spoke in a scarcely audible whisper, “Katara…”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Mai trudged along the rolling landscape, arms crossed across her ribcage, her long dress swishing repetitively against the tall grass.  Occasionally she could hear the whirr of a grasshopper as it flew up from the grass around her to escape her path. 

Moments ago she had been on her way to the city district in hopes of finding Zuko.  She could only assume he had gone into town with the others, as they seemed to have all disappeared in unison.  But no sooner had she left Aang on the shore and reached the top of the stone pathway at the house before she ran into Sokka, Suki, and Toph arriving back.  They had been engaged in a game of beach volleyball all afternoon, and when asked if Zuko and Katara had been with them, they told her it had just been the three of them and that they had not seen them since they left.  Mai’s stomach churned, but she hid all revealing signs of emotion as she thanked them, and then proceeded to walk in the opposite direction from town.  There was only one place she could think of that Zuko might go if he wanted to be alone – or not so alone as it seemed; the thought made her blood boil as she clenched her fists involuntarily, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands.  All she could think of was that she hoped she was wrong about her assumption; sometimes she hated being right, and those always seemed to be the times she was most likely to be.

It had been years since she had walked the hills of this green paradise behind the beach house.  She had often accompanied Zuko and his family on their vacations back when things were happier and less complicated.  She had spent many summers strolling hand in hand along the undulating landscape with Zuko.  That seemed like ages ago now, like a different life almost.  The tapestry of those days had been unraveled and woven back together haphazardly, transformed into an image she no longer recognized.  How had things gone so wrong?

Just when she started to think that perhaps she did not remember the hills as well as she had thought and began considering retracing her steps, the familiar jagged rocks that formed the old cavern entrance came into view.  Just seeing it caused a wave of various emotions to wash over her simultaneously as she trekked closer to the mouth of the cave.  She hesitated momentarily just before the opening, halting to listen for any audible voices.  Hearing nothing, she treaded softly to the entrance, keeping her weight on her toes, and began descending down the ragged rocks into the dimness of the cave.  She moved lithely and silently, as gracefully and nimbly as a leopardfox, taking her time to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light.  And that was when she felt her heart stop mid-beat.

Despite the dimness, she was able to make out the forms of two vastly familiar figures against the wall a short distance below her.  Shielding her eyes from any back light from outside, she could see unmistakably what she had feared would be confirmed.  Her breath caught in her throat as the image of her backstabbing fiancé kissing that water wench seared her retinas.  She felt the urge to cry, scream, laugh, and vomit simultaneously.  But all that managed to escape her was a cynical, “I _knew_ it.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

As he looked into Katara’s eyes and whispered her name, a slight movement toward the entrance of the cave caught Zuko’s attention, but before his eyes had time to focus he heard an all too familiar voice echo against the walls.

“I _knew_ it.”  Katara gasped at the unexpected voice and turned to see Mai quivering with palpable fury.  Zuko jumped up from his sitting position into a stance that looked like a cross between a sabertooth mooselion on the defensive and a gazellerabbit that was about to flee for his life.

“I _knew_ it!  How could you betray me like this, Zuko?”

“Mai, wait!  Please!”  He held his arm out to her pleadingly as she turned and made her way toward the exit.  Katara followed a safe distance behind, hugging her arms around herself insecurely.  “I was going to tell you.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep it from you.” 

Zuko nearly lost his footing as she suddenly whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at him vehemently.  “I even gave you a chance to admit it, more than once!  But you weren’t even man enough to come clean.  I was actually coming to find you to give you one last chance to tell me the truth.  If you think you two have been discreet, you are sadly mistaken.”  She shot a momentary glare at Katara that made the waterbender’s blood run cold, and then shifted her eyes back to Zuko.  “You thought I didn’t know, but I have known!  I just didn’t have the proof to confront you with.  Well now I can see that you _never_ would have told me on your own!”

Mai reached the top of the rocky incline and disappeared into the pale white daylight.  Zuko and Katara scrambled up the uneven floor after her, exiting the cave into the blinding sunlight and squinting painfully as their dilated pupils constricted suddenly.

“Mai!”  Zuko called out to her despairingly.  “I’m sorry!  You’re wrong, I was going to tell you.”  He realized how pathetic he sounded saying that after the fact, and he cursed himself inwardly.  But his words were muddled by the wind and even if she had heard him, he knew it would have made no difference.  She was already a good distance across the hillside, walking briskly, her arms crossed across her chest as usual.  She never even glanced back.


	3. Chapter 3

_How could he do this to me?  After all the years we’ve spent together, to throw it all away for some primitive Water Tribe hussy is just utterly detestable._   The anger churned and boiled in Mai’s stomach, deepening with every step away from the abhorrent scene that was permanently scorched into her memory.  Sometimes her rage was invaded by dizzying nausea; other times it was mixed with a suffocating sadness.  But whatever emotions waxed and waned, the seething anger remained constant and ever strengthening.  He would not get away with this; one way or another, she would make him pay.  A dragonhornet buzzed up from the grass, disturbed by her feverish strides, and hovered in front of her face to express its frustration.  Without the slightest flinch, she smacked it away angrily; it would think twice about stinging her today if it knew what was good for it.

She finally came up behind the boulders in the rear of the beach house and rounded the corner to the pathway in front, nearly colliding with Sokka, Suki, and Toph.  They frantically parted to make way as she blew past them, leaving the three friends to gawk at each other uncertainly.  After a brief bewildered hush, they turned their eyes back to the somber girl hastening by.

“Hey,” Suki cried out, “is everything okay?”  Her question was not met with so much as a backward glance, leaving her to look nervously at Sokka.

“Mai, what’s wrong?” he called after her.  No response.  The three friends raised a wary eyebrow to each other as they watched Mai hustle down the path toward the opposite end of the beach house.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Aang was standing on the other end of the path, brushing the burrs out of Appa’s coat when the concerned voices caught his attention, causing him to look up instinctively to see Mai waving the others off as she stormed past them, ignoring their inquiries.  The pace at which she approached him made him shrink back apprehensively.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“I need to borrow Appa,” she erupted.

“What?  Why?”

“I caught them, Aang.”  He felt himself go pale as the blood drained from his face, his mind instantaneously racing through a thousand different scenarios.  He prayed that she did not mean what he feared.  “Zuko and Katara – I found them kissing in a cavern behind the beach house.”

 _Kissing_.  His throat suddenly felt dry and dusty.  He wanted to speak out, he wanted to scream, but the words refused to come.  He simply stood staring at her, blinking in sheer disbelief, speechless.  His eyes darted past her to see the anxious group of friends eyeing them questioningly, trying to understand what all the commotion was about.  Toph appeared particularly distressed, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes squeezed shut, the other arm wrapped around her waist.  She looked as though she were trying to block out a bad dream.  She knew.

“I’m going back to the palace to get my things and get out.  I don’t want to speak to him, I don’t want to listen to him, I don’t want to see him _ever_ again.  It’s over. ”

Aang slowly dropped to his knees, resting his hands on his thighs to support the rest of his weight.  His body seemed to have gone suddenly weak; he looked cut down, like most of his life force had just been sucked out of him.  “I can’t believe this,” he said hopelessly.  He stared at the ground with a despondency his friends had never before seen in him.  “Are you certain you saw what you think you saw?”  He wanted desperately not to believe that Katara would do such a thing to him.

“I know what I saw, Aang,” she said sharply.  “Now, is it okay if I borrow Appa?”

He continued staring at the ground in shock, but nodded vaguely to her question.  Mai did not waver or wait for any further response; without delay she climbed deftly up on Appa, grabbed the reigns and situated herself hastily in the saddle.

“Yip, yip!” she hollered as the large bison took flight toward the faint mountain crater of Caldera City in the distance.

As Mai and Appa grew smaller in the sky, Sokka, Suki, and Toph ran up to Aang and stood around him, concern painted clearly on their faces.

“Aang, what’s going on?” asked Sokka, beating the others to the question.  They could hardly bear the suspense of not knowing what had so disturbed their friend any longer.

The shock in Aang’s expression began to transform into sheer anger, the wrath on his face making the others recoil slightly.  They glimpsed over at each other and then back at Aang, fearful of what to expect.

 “You wanna know what’s going on!?” he roared, his arms slicing through the air as he took to his feet suddenly.  “Katara’s been cheating on me with Zuko, _that’s_ what’s going on!”

Sokka and Suki both blinked in surprise while Toph cringed as though she had just tasted something vile.  “Whoa, Aang, hold on,” Sokka said as calmly as he could muster.  “I don’t think my sister would do a thing like that.”

“Actually, Sokka,” Toph cut in, feeling all eyes turn to stare at her, “I hate to say it, but you’re wrong.”

“Wait a minute, what do _you_ know about it?”

“The sparks have been flying between them for months now, it’s been kinda obvious.”  She looked over at Aang apologetically.  “I’m sorry, Aang.”

“So the ‘feelings for two people at once’…” Sokka muttered in disbelief, “…that was Zuko?”

“Oh my gosh, Aang,” Suki said, placing a consoling hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I am so sorry.” 

She gasped and flinched when he suddenly tore himself away from her touch.  “How could you have known all this time without telling me, Toph!?” he exploded.

“Aang, I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna upset you.  I was hoping that maybe it would just blow over.  I didn’t think you’d even believe it coming from someone else.”

“But you didn’t even try, did you!?”  He shook his head and glared appallingly at the blind girl.  “Some friend,” he scoffed, his voice lowering to a dejected murmur.  “Thanks a lot.”  He slammed open his glider and took off, leaving his friends in a cloud of bewilderment, wishing there was something they could do.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko and Katara wound their way back to the beach house reluctantly, trying to sort through all that had just happened – what they had confessed to each other, the implications of that confession, Mai’s discovery of them and the repercussions that would undoubtedly ensue.  The glow of the early evening sun bathed the hills in a golden radiance, casting a dreamlike aura over the island.  It seemed absurdly unbefitting to the scandalous predicament in which they found themselves.

Zuko knew it would affect more than just his inner circle.  He had been expected to marry Mai, sooner rather than later.  But it had been no secret to anyone that the two of them had serious compatibility issues.  They were much too different and were constantly bickering.  One moment their engagement was on and the next it was off.  His royal counselors would be none too pleased with this new development; they had been pushing him to marry and produce an heir since shortly after he had been crowned Fire Lord.  That was nearly two years ago, and it was two years too long as far as they were concerned.  An arranged marriage might be the next and only course unless Mai were able to find it in herself to forgive him.  Even if she did, which he found impossible to believe, neither of them would ever be happy.  She would never be able to trust him again, and he would spend the rest of his life just trying to sift through what could have been.  In the end, he knew all the what-ifs in the world would have been of no use to him then.  He has his doubts that a marriage to a Water Tribe woman, princess or not, would go over well with the counselors, but it was a battle he was willing to fight. 

He would cross that bridge when he came to it.  At the moment, the two of them needed to focus on coming up with a short term interim plan to deal with the upheaval that Mai had unquestionably caused upon her return.  Facing Aang and Mai again would be dreadfully hard, but they could not discount the backlash they would receive from the others as well.  But once they had dealt with all of that turmoil and after things had hopefully calmed down, they could concentrate on what to do next in regards to their relationship.  Katara could not help feeling guilty for not being upfront with Aang and the fact that he would find out about it second-hand.  She was dreading having to face him again knowing she broke his heart, but she tried to remain optimistic.

“I know they will be upset, and they have every right to be.  We shouldn’t have gone about it the way we did.  But I think in time they will see that it’s better this way than to live in a lie for the rest of your life.”

Zuko was far less confident.  “You don’t know Mai,” he said uneasily, his eyes fixed downward, watching his feet swoosh through the grass.  “She can be incredibly loyal and devoted when she wants to be.  But when if you cross her, she can also be one of the most malicious, unforgiving, vengeful people you’ll ever meet.”  He finally looked over at Katara gravely.  “I’m not certain at all that we won’t have to deal with that side of her before this is all over.”

They finally came to a stop as they reached the familiar boulders behind the house, staring at them silently, knowing they were a few strides away from the point of no return.  “Well,” Zuko said, taking Katara’s hand in his, “we’re gonna have to face them sooner or later.”  He smiled faintly and the two of them rounded the corner toward the front of the house.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The first thing Katara saw when they arrived at the house was Sokka standing in the center of their path with his arms crossed along his chest, glowering and shaking his head.  Toph and Suki were sitting on the front steps of the beach house fixed intently on the scene unfolding.  Toph stared with a solemn yet eager expression, leaning forward with her arms resting on her knees, absorbed in the drama playing out before them.  Suki gazed on with a look of both disappointment in and concern for the pair.

Sokka grabbed hold of Katara’s arm and wrenched her from Zuko’s grasp, dragging her several paces away from the firebender. 

“Ow, Sokka!” she cried out in protest.

He let go of her arm and glared at Katara in a way that was foreign to her, making her feel uneasy.  “How could you do this, Katara?”  His voice was low and condemning, his eyes narrowed in disgrace, causing her to avert her eyes in shame.  “What on earth would possess you to betray Aang like that?  That boy loves you, he would do anything for you!  At the very least you could have had the decency to stab him in the front instead of going behind his back.”  He shook his head again, staring disdainfully.  “How could you do this…” he repeated himself, at a loss for words, “…and with _him_!?”

“Sokka,” Zuko objected, “it wasn’t all Katara’s fault.”

“Clearly,” Toph snickered under her breath, smirking at Suki.  Suki did not return the earthbender’s banter; she was too filled with grief for the situation to leave any room for joking.

“I’ll get to you in a minute, lover boy!” Sokka cut him off sharply, holding one hand up in the air haltingly.  Looking back at Katara, his voice softened ever so slightly but his expression remained rigid.  “I think it’s time we went back home for a while.”

“What?  No!”

“You need to get away from this place for a while.  Being back in old familiar surroundings with family and friends will be good for you.”

“No, Sokka, I’m not going!  I’m staying right here!”

“Katara, do you realize how incredibly selfish you’re being?  This is serious!  The two of you have single-handedly wrecked the lives and ripped out the hearts of two people simultaneously – people who love you.  You need time to think about what you’ve done and what it is you really want.”

“Sokka!  Listen to me.  I know what I did was wrong.  But I also know what it is I want and I’ve made up my mind.  I’m staying with Zuko.”

Sokka’s gaze shifted from his sister to the firebender, letting his glare linger just long enough to make him shift nervously, then rolled his eyes back to Katara.  “If Dad knew what you’ve done, you can be sure he’d come get you himself.”  Katara crossed her arms and cast him a look as if to say, _Maybe you missed it, but I’m not a little girl anymore_.  He sighed then, closing his eyes as he rubbed the back of his tense neck.  His shoulders finally relaxed slightly in a gesture of concession. “Alright, fine.  Just be glad _I’m_ not Dad.  But you two owe Aang and Mai an explanation.  You can’t just leave them hanging like this.  It’s the least you can do now.”

He turned his attention fully to Zuko then, coming to stand within a few inches of him.  “And you!” he said, pointing a threatening finger into his chest.  “I’ll be watching you, buster.  And if you ever do _anything_ to hurt my baby sister, the Fire Nation will have to find themselves a new Fire Lord.  Understand?”

“It probably isn’t such a good idea to just get up and leave in the middle of this anyway,” Toph chimed in to lessen the tension, rising from her place on the steps and walking down to stand on the ground.  “We should probably wait here together until Aang comes back… or in case he doesn’t.  You know how he can get when he’s really angry; we should be here in case we need to go out and search for him.”

“Well, he has Appa with him, doesn’t he?” Katara asked.  She expected Aang to be upset, but the fact that he had taken off without wanting to face her first made her nervous.

Suki stood and descended the steps to join the earthbender.  “Unfortunately, no.  Mai borrowed Appa to go back to the palace so she could gather her things.”  She paused, looking over at Zuko with a mix of disapproval and sadness.  “She was pretty upset.”

“She was livid,” Toph expanded.

Zuko glanced down tensely.  That did not sound good.  He knew that Mai was infuriated, but he had not expected her to storm off the island and leave everyone else so abruptly.  And knowing that she had gone off alone, with no one there to talk her down from her fury, made his stomach clench with apprehension.  _This is a recipe for disaster_ , he thought, _and Mai’s got the cauldron on the fire_.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Dark clouds were beginning to creep in on the setting sun as Mai arrived at the palace.  The fiery orb was slowly disappearing beneath the horizon, and it appeared that a storm was moving in to take its place.  From the look of things, she knew it would be upon the city in little more than an hour.  The wind had picked up, bending the trees beneath its force as she climbed down off of Appa.  On the trip back, she had decided that after retrieving her belongings she would make her way back to her parents’ home in Omashu.  She wanted to escape this place immediately, tonight if possible, and she needed Appa to make that trip.  She hoped that Aang would understand.  A servant met her at the gate to lead the bison to the stables to be cared for while she prepared.  She would need to hurry if she wanted to beat the storm.

As Appa was led away, Mai took in her surroundings in an entirely new light for the first time.  There was not a single area her eyes could wander that was not haunted by the ghost of a memory, playing out before her like a dream.  The memories made her suddenly aware of the cool touch of gold that hung around her neck.  She clutched at the necklace and drew it out to glimpse upon it again.  At the end of the gold chain dangled a ruby stone in the shape of two firebirds intertwined with an inscription in the center – 永遠の愛 (eternal love).  Zuko had given her the necklace as a betrothal gift years ago, even before he had been branded with the mark of a banished prince.  She had never taken it off, not even during the years of his banishment when she had thought she would never see him again.

With the trauma of the day and the pressure that had building over the past months, she was somewhat surprised to notice the absence of the sting of tears in her eyes.  She wanted to cry; she felt that she should cry.  But all she could feel was a cold numbness as a renewed sense of bitterness welled up within her.  With a wail of anger and frustration, she tore the chain from around her neck and hurled the necklace to the ground.  She turned to walk inside through the colossal palace entryway as a few solitary raindrops fell from the sky.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

A low, muffled roll of thunder grumbled in the distance from within the ominous clouds that were building in the sky.  Jiao watched from the shadows of a nearby building as the tall, raven-haired girl dismounted the giant bison and handed over the reins to an elderly manservant.  He had been watching her and her friends for three days straight, and intermittently over the last several months.  He had followed her back to the palace at a safe distance off the coast of Ember Island.  Though dusk was descending quickly, he had a clear view of her amidst the multitude of lanterns that were glowing throughout the city.  She appeared utterly distraught as she paused outside of the palace gate; the tension in her stance, the rigidity of her movements, and the absence of her betrothed confirmed what he already knew.  She would be vulnerable, and probably desperate.  The timing could not be more perfect.

After several moments, he watched as the girl ripped something from around her neck and threw it to the ground violently as she turned and walked brusquely away.  The flicker of light from the lanterns occasionally caught on the discarded item, causing a subtle glint of red to flash up from the ground sporadically.  He waited until he was sure no one was watching and then emerged from the shadows and ascended the grand stairway leading up to the palace gate.  He bent down and picked up the trinket, rotating it between his fingers as he inspected it.  He discreetly stuffed the necklace into his hooded cloak as he descended the flight of steps and began making his way toward the outer edge of the city.  A closer, more confident roll of thunder rumbled overhead as several foretelling droplets began to patter around him.  _The timing really could not be more perfect_ , Jiao thought to himself, the shadow of his hood concealing the smirk on his face.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai scowled through the bars of his prison cell, glaring menacingly into the eyes of the provisional guard who had entered with the evening meal.  The regular guard, Jiao, had been granted a leave of absence for a couple of days and he was filling in for him.  He was a young man, probably in his late twenties, with a lean athletic build and keen features.  He was not terribly intimidating, but he held himself with an air of confidence that exuded its own strength.  He stood tall and stared down the former Fire Lord challengingly before he finally slid the evening meal between the bars and kicked it toward the prisoner, the shrill screech of the tray on the cold stone floor echoing in the confined, gloomy space.

Ozai’s upper lip quivered in frustration.  The way that boy looked at him made his blood boil, like he was challenging some once ruthless animal, now caged and powerless to strike back, stripped of its former terror.  He felt like a majestic lioneagle that was injured and lying on his side.  His pride was wounded and he was struck down, but far from defeated; his amber eyes still burned with a ferocity that spoke of the fight he still had inside him.  He had been such a king of beasts, but now the birds of prey had descended and were devouring him and the world he worked so hard to create.  To end up alone with nothing left, stripped from everything that made him the man he was, and to be dethroned – he never imagined that he would come to know such things.  If he ever managed to escape this cell, he would make sure that the last thing that boy ever knew was just how ruthless he could be.

Just as the young guard had taken his leave through the large, heavy wood door that blocked his cell off from the prison corridor, Ozai heard a voice ricochet off the desolate walls of the passageway outside.  “The warden says you’re dismissed.  I’ll take over from here.”  His lips curled into the faintest smirk.  Jiao had returned.

A few moments passed in silence as Jiao waited outside for the boy to disappear from sight and then the massive wooden door opened once again.  Jiao finally stepped inside and his tense form relaxed as he turned to face the prisoner.

“What did you find out?” Ozai asked him, careful not raise his voice beyond a low murmur.

“I have confirmed what I suspected to be true these recent months.  Zuko has catastrophically fallen for the waterbending peasant of the Southern Water Tribe, who also happens to be the betrothed of Avatar Aang.”

“Interesting…  That’s just what we had been counting on.”

Jiao had managed to visit him in secret shortly after Ozai’s incarceration; he had surreptitiously declared his unwavering loyalty to the “true” Fire Lord and had pledged his service to him.  All he asked in return was that, once he had reclaimed the throne, Ozai would grant him an early retirement with ample means to care for his ailing wife, and Ozai had agreed.  It had been a risky plan, far from fail proof, but the rewards outweighed the risks to both of them.  It was a chance worth taking.

Jiao had a cunning wit and within months had been able to manipulate the system so that he had been charged with the sole responsibility of guarding the cell of the most feared man in the world.  It had all been a painstaking process, but Ozai was able to be patient when he knew it played to his benefit.  One wrong move and everything would be destroyed.  Timing was of the essence.

“But there’s one more thing, and I think you’ll find it plays to our advantage.  We may be able to execute our plan earlier than first thought.  Your son’s illicit affair was discovered earlier today by none other than his fiancée herself.  Mai has permanently sworn off her engagement to Zuko, and I have reason to believe that she intends to leave the city for good.  If we’re going to use this new development, I suggest we jump on it post haste.”

“This is just too perfect,” Ozai simpered.  “She is pitted against Zuko, who is in love with the little water peasant, who in turn belongs to the Avatar.  I could not have planned this better myself,” he chuckled maliciously.  “There is no fury known to man like a woman scorned.  And Mai, like any woman, will surely jump at an opportunity to exact revenge.  We only need to provide the proper lure and encouragement.”

It had been a plan nearly two years in the making: find a way to blackmail the Avatar into giving him back his firebending and then wait for the perfect moment to free the former Fire Lord from prison.  If the Avatar could take it away, he could surely give it back.  And it seemed the long-awaited time had finally arrived.  He was determined, by any means necessary, to rise to power once more and reclaim the throne that was rightfully his.  And with this new development, Mai could provide the necessary means to get his pathetic son, that shameful disgrace of a Fire Lord, out of the way.  Zuko would not be able to stop him from capturing the girl or from ascending to the throne after his victory over the Avatar.

“Perhaps this will do,” said Jiao, pulling the necklace from within his cloak.  “She discarded it at the palace, but judging from her demeanor I assumed it’s connected to her relationship with your son.” 

Ozai recognized it after a moment and nodded in affirmation.  “Send her a letter immediately.  She and I need to have a little talk.  It’s been so long… we have some catching up to do.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Mai whipped fervently around the bedchamber that she shared with Zuko as she gathered her possessions, trying not to focus on the many items in the room that screamed out memories to her.  The thunder had grown closer and more frequent, more foreboding; the idea of being forced to stay the night to wait out the storm was becoming a very likely possibility, much to her frustration.  All she wanted was to escape any reminder of Zuko, but that was probably all she would be surrounded by tonight.

A knock at the door interrupted her progress and she cursed under breath as she walked briskly to the door.  A servant woman stood there, holding out a small piece of paper rolled up and bound with a string.  “It’s for you, my lady.  A messenger hawk arrived with it just now.”

She took the letter from her and closed the door.  For a moment she hesitated.  It was probably from Zuko, a pathetic apology letter or something of the sort.  There was no one more likely to have sent it considering the timing of everything.  She clenched the rolled up paper in her hand and was about to tear it up when curiosity began nagging her.  She could always tear it up after she read it, she conceded.  Finally she sighed as she uncrumpled the paper and rolled the letter open.

The unexpected note coupled with the signature at the bottom caused her heart to stop momentarily. 

_Dear Mai,_

_I have something that I believe may be of great value to you.  It would be to your benefit to visit me without delay.  It seems ages since our paths last crossed.  I look forward to seeing you again soon._

_Ozai_

Mai struggled for breath as she read the letter over again.  What did _he_ want?  She crumpled up the letter once again and this time threw it into the waste bin in the corner of the room.  She stood motionless for a moment, trying to decide what she should do.  Her eyes clenched shut and she rubbed her temples as a frustrated groan escaped her throat.  She knew that the prospect of beating the storm was hopeless now; she would be stuck in the city overnight either way. 

She had had no contact with the former Fire Lord since he had been imprisoned, much to her conflicted relief.  She knew that if he was contacting her now, it might be worthwhile to at least look into it.  There would be no palanquins tonight; she needed to go in secret.  If she was caught visiting Ozai people might think she was planning something.  Reluctantly she slipped on her heavy hooded cloak to ward off the winds and rain and prepared to set out for Capital City Prison.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Mai arrived at the prison soaking wet, but thankfully protected from the rains underneath her cloak.  Visiting hours were over, but her status as the Fire Lady-to-be allowed her to pass through with ease.  She was determined to take advantage of it while she still could before her breakup with Zuko became public.

She was escorted down a long, gloomy corridor by a stocky guard with a gruff voice who made a hopeless attempt at small talk.  Mai kept her responses curt and seldom, and finally the guard gave up and the two of them walked in a silence, their out of sync footsteps reverberating in all directions along the corridor.

Finally they were met by another guard, taller and moderately handsome.  He appeared younger, probably in his mid-thirties she guessed; his bronze eyes had a vivacity to them that was yet untouched by age.  His chocolate colored hair was worn shorter than most men in the fire nation, flowing freely in ragged edges to the where his neck and shoulders met.  He watched impassively as the two approached and only nodded recognition to the stocky guard before turning his attention to Mai.  “My name is Jiao,” he said flatly, no sign of emotion amidst his cool features.  “I’ll take you from here.”

 He gestured wordlessly with his hand for her to follow him as the other guard turned and walked back down the dimly lit walkway from whence they had come.  Mai followed Jiao around a corner where the corridor finally dead-ended in front of a very large solitary wooden door; it looked solid and heavy, added for extra security, undoubtedly a cell reserved for the most dangerous prisoners.  Jiao unlocked the heavy iron bolt and pulled open the door, the harsh groan of the iron hinges amplified in an echo against the stark stone walls.  He gestured for her to walk inside, and closed the door behind her, leaving it only slightly ajar so that she could exit at her discretion.

 “Mai… it’s been so long,” an oh-so-familiar voice crooned. 

A recognizable form sat against the far wall behind the prison bars, looking up at her as she entered.  A grin splayed across his face as his golden eyes studied her features, reading her.

“You’re looking as crestfallenly lovely as ever.”  The familiarity in his voice and that signature smirk made her stomach churn.  Instinctively she crossed her arms in front of her chest, as though to protect herself, scowling a warning at him.

“What do you want, Ozai?” she cut him off sharply, with a note of distrust in her voice.  “If you think you can seduce me with that silver tongue of yours, you can forget it.  I’m not the same weak girl who fell under your spell before.  Those days are long since over and you know it.”

He chuckled derisively.  “Don’t flatter yourself, my dear.  This is far beyond the realm of you and me.”

Her eyes darted down to the side, scowling at the way he controlled the conversation.  It was so typical.  “Then get to the point,” she demanded, grudgingly making eye contact with him again.

Wordlessly he held up the necklace, the delicate gold chain dangling between his fingers.  A horrified gasp escaped Mai at the sight of her own necklace suspended from the hand of Zuko’s father.

 “Where did you get that!?”

“I have my ways,” he sneered, toying with her.

“Well it’s mine, give it back!”

“Yours?” he scoffed.  “From what I understand, you threw it away.  What could it possibly matter to you now?”  He paused and grinned at the conflicting emotions on her face.  “Unless of course, it matters more than you’d care to admit.”

Mai was silent and glared down at the stone floor, focusing on the natural fissures on its surface, the dirt that was caked between the square slabs, anything to avoid looking up at him and risk revealing her true emotions.

She was beginning to crack, he could tell.  She was breaking down, and if he played his cards right he would soon have her in the palm of his hand.  All he needed to do was get her talking about it, release the floodgates of her emotions, and lend a listening ear, not because he cared but because he needed her to believe he did.

“He’s hurt you, hasn’t he?” he began at length, softening his tone to a degree he hardly recognized.  “I know all about it.  How betrayed you with that paltry water bender, and intended to keep it from you as long as you didn’t find out.”

It did not take long before her resolve began to waver and the sudden flood of emotion seemed to suck the strength from within her.  She sunk to her knees on the cold hard floor, her lip quivering with anger or sorrow or both, still refusing to raise her face to him.

 “He doesn’t deserve you, Mai.  My son was a fool beyond compare to think you were not enough for him; we both know that’s a lie.”

Her body became tense and trembled slightly before she suddenly snapped her head up; her brows quaked, jaw tightened, as her face contorted in passion.  The tears that had been so noticeably absent before were now welling up, on the brink of overflowing.  “Stop it!  Why are you telling me this!?  I know this isn’t why you called me here.  Just tell me what it is you want!”

“I want you to help me get out of here.  You have the authority and the access to obtain the key without raising suspicion.”

She froze briefly as the full realm of implications to his suggestion dawned on her.  The shock halted the tears as her eyes widened.  “No… way!  There is no way I’m risking _my_ neck to release history’s most fearsome and notorious tyrant.  You’ve earned every minute you spend in this prison cell, Ozai.  The world doesn’t need your devious and disturbing psyche lurking free again.”  She stood up swiftly then, turning to exit through the heavy door.

“And what if I told you that I could get rid of the water bender for you?”  His rebuttal stopped Mai in her tracks.  He smiled, knowing she was within his grasp.  “You could have Zuko entirely to yourself to deal with him any way you see fit – reconciliation or revenge.  Either way the obstacle between you would be eliminated.”

Her rigid shoulders loosened in acquiescence as Mai turned around slowly to face Ozai once again, bitterly enticed by his proposition.  “I can help you, Mai,” he accentuated his point, “but only if you are willing to help me first.”

He had her now, there was no turning back.  His plan was falling into place.  Soon he would have the water wench within his clutches and the Avatar would be at his mercy.  He knew that the girl’s affair would undoubtedly complicate things, but he was certain that that sentimental whelp of an Avatar would not sit idly by if her life were threatened.  That little boy would return his firebending or suffer the consequences.  Either way the coin landed, he would make him pay, there was no mistaking that.

Mai stared at him for several moments with a cold, vengeful expression.  At last she took a step toward the prison bars again and descended to sit at eye level with Ozai.  Finally she spoke.

“What’s your plan?”


	4. Chapter 4

If there was one thing she knew, it was that she should not trust him.  Ozai lied.  All the time.  She was certain he was just playing her, using her.  But right now Mai did not care.  All she cared about was making those two pay; as long as she got what she wanted, it did not matter how she went about it.  The ends would justify the means.

She had never done anything like this.  Contemplated crazy things like this, maybe, but had never actually had the grounds to carry them out.  She would be thrown in prison, possibly for life, if she were caught.  And that was if she were lucky.  The more likely punishment for aiding in the prison escape of a former war criminal and tyrant would be execution.  She knew the risks involved, but she was desperate, and desperation was the mother of ingenuity.

The wound in her heart had been festering and was becoming infected with her consuming desire for revenge.  It gave her just the edge she needed to go forward with the plan.  Mai had managed to obtain the key for Ozai’s prison cell with relative ease.  When it came to the most dangerous prisoners, such as Ozai, extra precautions were taken which included keeping the actual prison cell key safely locked away in a separate heavily guarded room within the facility.  Not even Jiao was permitted to carry it with him.  He was given exclusive access to the key for the heavy wooden door outside the cell, but that was the extent.

_Mai had gone back to the palace and had returned to Capital City Prison the following night under the cover of darkness.  The storm had still not let up and she arrived once again soaking wet.  This time, however, she had made her way directly to the Key Vault Room where she was greeted by a pair of middle-aged guards._

_“I need the key for former Fire Lord Ozai’s cell,” she had instructed the guards coolly and confidently.  “Orders from Fire Lord Zuko.”  She had noticed their surprised expressions and the guards glancing over at each other warily; a pang of nervousness nipped at her stomach, but she remained completely composed on the outside.  They returned their cautious gazes back to Mai and one of them raised a leery eyebrow._

_“Usually we need these kinds of requests in writing when the Fire Lord sends someone in his stead,” the guard had said, suspicion rising in his voice.  “Why didn’t the Fire Lord come to request it in person?”_

_“The Fire Lord is otherwise preoccupied at the moment.  It was a matter that demanded immediate attention, so he sent me in his place.”  Mai had tried to sound as professional and unchallengeable as possible while studying the faces of the two guards scrupulously.  One wrong move and the truth could be snuffed out, and they were starting to ask questions.  She had expected as much; after all, that was what they were paid to do.  But now that she was there and risking her life, her nerves were getting to her more than she had anticipated.  Still, she had maintained a rigid exterior, her confidence never appearing to wane._

_“What reason does the Fire Lord have for requiring this key?”_

_“It is a strictly confidential government matter, I am unauthorized to disclose any information.”  She had hoped to Agni that her fabricated explanation would be enough to satiate the guards.  And after several moments, to her overwhelming relief, their tense bodies relaxed and their expressions became more resigned._

_“I’m sorry,” one guard had conceded.  “We’re trained not to take anyone at face value.  We are required to interrogate any person who requests a key for one of the restricted cells.  You just never know when someone might be planning something crazy.”_

_Her mouth twitched in the faintest trace of a smirk, undetectable beneath her solemn guise.  “I understand completely.  The Fire Nation is fortunate to have such vigilant guards enforcing the security of our prisons.”  And a moment later, she had walked back down the barren corridor toward Ozai’s cell with the key securely in her grasp._

Mai finally rounded the corner where the lengthy corridor branched off into the small wing that housed Ozai’s cell.  Jiao was standing guard as usual outside the heavy door, looking perfectly at ease and nonchalant.  Any passerby observing the scene would have no reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary, but the cell was in a secluded area of the prison so even a mild disruption in their plan was unlikely.

Jiao nodded to her as she approached.  They remained silent as he unbolted the door and gestured for her to move inside, following closely and pulling the door shut behind them.  Once they were safely out of earshot, he spoke.  “You were able to retrieve it, I assume?”  It was more of a statement than a question, to which she nodded in confirmation.

“Yes.  And how did things pan out on your end?”

“Like clockwork.  I was able to barter off an unmarked ship from a fisherman just this afternoon, and it’s docked and waiting for us at the harbor.”

“Excellent,” Ozai said in a silky murmur.  “After two long, torturous years, I will finally be free of this hellhole.”

“Here, my lord.  You will need to put these on.”  He reached into his cloak and pulled out a heap of clothing that he had been concealing.  Jiao handed the bundle through the bars to Ozai who unfolded them and studied them before undressing to swap them with his dismal prison clothes.  Mai turned away awkwardly, blocking her peripheral vision with her hand, to avoid seeing more of the man than she wished.  Ozai smirked briefly at the girl’s embarrassment and then turned his attention back to his task.  “It’s my extra prison uniform,” Jiao explained, “and the cloak that we often wear when going out at night.”  He let out a cynical chuckle.  “I won’t be needing them anymore.”  Both Mai and Ozai understood what he meant.  As soon as it was discovered that Jiao had allowed the former Fire Lord to escape, he would be hunted down and, if found, wind up on the opposite side of the bars that he had helped to guard for so many years.  Ozai’s return to power would need to be swift if he were to ever have the means to properly care for his ailing wife.

Once Ozai had finished dressing, Mai turned around again to see a very different Ozai than before.  The guard uniform transformed him at once from a lowly prisoner to an adept and stately prison guard.  The clothing complimented his physique nicely: the shoulder plates served to further enhance his broad frame, giving him a more daunting presence than usual; the dark grey close-fitting shirt underneath hugged his figure just enough to outline his well-developed chest and abdominal muscles, and the matching dark grey pants hugged his waist, flowing outward down to below his knees until the base clasped snuggly around his upper calf muscles; a long dark red sash draped from around his waist and ended in a point at knee-level; and the crimson high-stretching boots reached up to cover the base of his pants at the top of his calf muscles.

Mai could see that he looked somewhat disgruntled.  He probably felt ridiculous, she figured – the once fearsome and powerful Fire Lord Ozai reduced to donning a prison guard uniform in order to secure his freedom.  The thought of the humiliation he felt, however slight, made her smile scornfully on the inside.  She may have been resentfully willing to rely on him for the sheer purpose of revenge, but that hardly translated into any sort of fond sentiment toward the man.  If she could have carried it out with as much ease by herself, she certainly would have.

“Are you ready?” Jiao asked at last.  “Once we leave this prison cell, there can be no turning back.”

Ozai draped the charcoal cloak around his shoulders and clasped it just beneath his collar bone.  He breathed a deep, bitter sigh, and looked up at Jiao menacingly.  “I’m ready,” he said gruffly.

Mai stepped forward and unlocked the cell door; it opened with a wailing moan like some weary banshee that had just been awakened from the grave.  Ozai walked past the metal bars for the first time since his imprisonment nearly two years before.  His eyes locked with Mai’s, but she was unable to discern their message.  They seemed to carry a hint of gratitude mixed with an alarming glimmer of danger.  For a moment her gut clenched in apprehension; what had she done?  She felt as though she had just cut the safety net that kept the world from plummeting into chaos and there was no easy way to repair it now.  Her feeling of panic began to grow; but then all of the events of the past several months suddenly came rushing back to her and she remembered the reason why she was here.  It was the fuel that rekindled the nearly smothered cinders of her bitterness.  She stepped aside and let Ozai walk past her to stand before Jiao.

“You and Mai will exit the prison and fly to Ember Island on the Avatar’s bison tonight,” Jiao stated, reaffirming the plan they had concocted earlier.  “She’ll drop you off on the far coast of the island at Yinchen Grove and proceed to the beach house.  Once she’s coaxed your son and the waterbender to the designated meeting spot and you’ve captured the girl, I’ll be waiting for you with the ship at the bottom of the cliffs on the coast.”

Ozai nodded, before reluctantly pulling the guard helmet over his head, which concealed most of his face.  The sides wrapped around to the middle of his cheekbones and down to his jaw line.  He pulled the visor down over his eyes, which covered the upper part of his face except for the eyeholes, and then drew the hood of his cloak up over his head to conceal his tell-tale hair and as much of his beard as possible.  Mai did the same with her hood and Jiao opened the heavy wooden door as she and Ozai exited out into the corridor.

Mai and Ozai made their way down the long, bleak hallway, the echo of their footsteps filling the silence between them.  She knew that the best way to ward off any suspicion would be to act normal, to make eye contact with the guards at the exit, and keep any words exchanged short and sweet.  Hopefully they would not have received word about her request for the key and would have no reason to suspect that she was walking out of the prison with one of the most dangerous criminals in the world.

As they neared the exit of the prison, the guards that were keeping watch came into view.  Mai held her breath as she approached; Ozai was following behind her, so she could not see him but she imagined that he was a bundle of nerves as well.  The two guards were engaged in a lighthearted conversation when they looked up at the approaching pair.  _This is it_ , she thought.  She gave them her usual uninspired version of a smile and simply said, “Goodnight,” as she and Ozai continued to walk right past them unhindered.

“Goodnight,” the guards responded in unison before resuming their jocular discourse.

The two of them proceeded out of the prison and into the pouring night rain.  Mai’s heart began to race, her adrenaline pumping, as she realized that they had gotten away with it.  She was too afraid to say anything about it to Ozai until they were in the air on Appa, but she cast him a triumphant glance as they made their way toward the palace.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Manipulating people was so easy he had almost resolved to stop doing it.  Almost. 

Jiao perhaps had not been manipulated as much capitalized upon.  The man’s loyalty to him had remained surprisingly unwavering and Jiao desired to see him rise to power once again as Phoenix King, supreme ruler of the Fire Nation and the world.  But he had not agreed to help make that happen until he had received something he wanted from Ozai as well.  What Jiao failed to realize, however, was that men like Ozai were true to their word only as long as it was profitable to them.  When push came to shove, he was not about to tend to another’s needs if it infringed in any way on his own, dying wife or not.  It was not his concern.

Mai, however, had played right into his plan.  Vengeful women could be so predictable; all he had to do was exploit her frenzied, irrational state of emotion and sit back as she became like pliable clay in his hands.  She believed that he was helping her simply as an act of gratitude for her breaking him out of prison, completely unaware that his capturing the Water Tribe girl served to benefit him just as much as it did her.  She was under the impression that he would wait to depart from the island until she had joined him, but he was quite certain that she would be unable to escape Zuko once he had realized what had happened.  He could not allow her to slow him down.

Water was dripping from his hood like a small stream in front of his face as the two of them reached the palace grounds, snaking in and out of lighted areas to avoid being discovered.  The pouring rain helped to drown out any sound from their careful footsteps and they were able to arrive at the palace stables with ease.  Mai opened the stable doors and they advanced into the dimly lit building.   At once the musky, pungent odor of hay and animal droppings assaulted his senses, sucking the breath from his chest momentarily.  A faint groan came from the back right corner of the stable and as they approached, the Avatar’s large air bison came into view.  Was it technically a bison or a buffalo?  He was unsure of the difference.  What he was sure of was that the animal was much larger than he had anticipated.

The bison appeared content to see Mai for a moment, but then became noticeably more agitated as Ozai came into view.  It began shuffling its feet and groaning more loudly and frequently, snorting and angling its horns toward him.  If it kept this up, someone was sure to hear the commotion and come to investigate.  Mai stepped forward and gently placed her hand on the animal’s muzzle.

“Shh, Appa, it’s okay,” she soothed the bison, petting its nose and crooning words of assurance.  To their dismay, her efforts seemed to have very little effect on its distress and the groans only seemed to escalate.  Something needed to be done, and quickly.

“Listen, Appa,” Mai continued in her singsong tone.  It sounded so foreign coming from her, he thought.  “I’m going to take you back to see Aang now.”  This seemed to stall the beast’s anxiety for a moment.  Ozai was surprised to see that the animal actually seemed to understand her.  Mai took advantage of its hesitation to play on its affection for the boy.  “That’s right, we’re going back to Aang.  But I need you to take both of us, Appa.  This is very important.  Can you do that?”  The bison remained silent and unmoving, appearing to weigh the two options.  Finally he let out a quieter snort and nuzzled his head into her hand.  Mai closed her eyes and sighed in relief.  “Thank you, Appa.”

The girl took the bison’s reins and led it out of the stable and into the rain.  She climbed onto its tail and gestured to Ozai to follow suit.  He would have been lying to himself if he did not admit that the massive size of the animal did not intimidate him.  He had never been in the presence of an animal so enormous, and he was expected to just climb on its back casually and allow it to carry him over the open ocean after the beast had made clear its loathing of him.  But he knew he had no choice; he had to remain focused on the bigger picture.  After a moment’s hesitation, he climbed cautiously onto the bison’s tail and was subsequently catapulted onto the saddle on its back.  Mai crawled to the front and took the reins while he situated himself against the back of the saddle, trying to shield himself from the rain as much as possible.

“Yip yip!” he heard Mai cry out and suddenly the bison’s feet left the ground as they began soaring higher and higher into the air.  He gripped the side of the saddle with one hand while pulling his aggravating helmet off with the other and sent it hurling over the side, spiraling away and disappearing into the darkness below. The pellets of rain stung his face as their speed accelerated, but he hardly noticed.  His thoughts were preoccupied with the details of the impending events.  Every move had to be executed with unfailing precision; one slipup and his entire plan could be foiled.  With every passing moment, the formidable heat of his firebending grew ever closer within his grasp.  He knew it would not be long now.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The palm trees bowed beneath the force of the wind, appearing like lost souls in the darkness of night, as the storm that had begun the evening before continued its assault ceaselessly.  Sokka, Suki, Toph, Katara, and Zuko sat slumped on the top step of the covered terrace of the beach house, watching the rain fall in torrents in monotonous silence.  They had spent countless hours indoors that day trying to entertain themselves, and had subsequently come down with an acute case of cabin fever.

Suddenly Suki perked up from her lifeless position.  “Hey, look guys!” she called out.  “I think Appa’s coming back!”

“Finally,” Toph sighed in relief.  “This vacation’s kinda crashed.  I don’t think I can take another day of sitting around in awkward silence, waiting for Aang to return so things can get even more awkward.  I’m ready to just go find Aang and get it over with so we can get the heck off this island.”

Katara and Zuko sighed and fixed their gaze on the ground.  They, too, dreaded the return of Aang but it was necessary to wait for him so that they could all go back together, and they knew that they would have to face him eventually.

The five of them of them gazed up toward the sky, relieved to see their only means of transportation emerging in a vague form through the obscuring rain.  But as the bison slowly grew closer and more discernible in their vision, both Sokka and Suki frowned uncertainly and squinted to better focus on the approaching figure. 

“Is that…” Sokka trailed off hesitantly, “… Mai?”

Zuko’s head snapped up at the mention of the girl’s name.  He could feel his heart begin to speed up as his mind raced through all of the plausible reasons she could possibly have for returning.  His gut instinct told him that something was amiss; it just was not like Mai to show her face again so soon after such an incident.  Normally she would spend hours or even days blocking out everyone else and just steeping in her own anger.  _This can’t be good_ , he thought.

He rose from his seated position as he and the others watched Appa come to a landing a short distance from the beach house.  Sure enough, a devastatingly familiar figure jumped down from the saddle and began walking toward them.  Zuko’s muscles tensed in trepidation as he left the others on the steps and descended to meet Mai on the ground halfway between Appa and the house, coming to stand within a few feet of her.  He became drenched almost instantly, the rain dripping from the long fringe of hair that fell in front of his face.

“What are you doing here, Mai?”  He realized as the words left his mouth that it was probably not the best greeting, but it was pointless to stand on ceremony at this point.

“What, I’m no longer welcome here?” she asked sarcastically.  Before he could respond, she continued.  “I took some time alone to cool down and work through some things.  I think we should at least talk about what happened, and why, before we officially decide to call it quits.  After so many years, I deserve the truth and a reasonable explanation… and I suppose you deserve a chance to explain your side of things.”

Zuko felt uneasy.  Mai could hold a grudge the way a skilled architect could construct a building or a proficient painter could bring to life a blank canvas; resentment was her true art medium and she was a master.  He could not understand how she could come to such a rational conclusion so quickly, if at all.  But part of him, whether out of guilt or sheer curiosity, wanted to hear her out.  Perhaps the reality of losing him had tempered her anger slightly and allowed her to think clearly.  If she wanted to reconcile their romantic relationship he was not interested, but he could at least give her the opportunity to talk about things and gain some closure to it all.

“All right,” he consented.

“But not here,” she clarified.  “Yinchen Grove.  It’s more private there and we can talk without being disturbed.”

“They aren’t going to –”

“I would just feel better about it.  And I would like Katara to be there as well.  She was a part of this too.”

Zuko sighed and looked down at the ground, watching as the raindrops spattered in several small puddles around their feet.  He was trying to ignore the voice of reason that was pointing out the red flags in her proposition.  Why was she not okay with talking here?  They could walk around to the back of the beach house and talk in peace there; he knew the others would not bother them.  And why did she suddenly want to talk to Katara as well?  It could be some kind of trap in a scheme to take both him and Katara out.  But he did not want to believe that she was capable of doing something so vicious, as vengeful as she could be.  After what felt like several minutes, he finally succeeded at pushing the voice out of his head and looked back up at Mai.

“Okay,” he agreed, giving her the benefit of the doubt against his better judgment.  “I’ll need a minute to talk to Katara.  You go ahead and we’ll meet you at Yinchen Grove shortly.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko and Katara trudged through the soggy turf as Katara bent a shield of water over their heads to shelter them from the rain.  The constant rainfall murmured a melancholy lullaby, interrupted every now and then by the occasional croak of a turtlefrog.  The lamps that were burning in the distance on the terrace of the beach house were fading into the darkness behind them as they made their way up the rising knoll to the crags on the edge of the island.  On the rim of the precipice was a small grove of palm trees that were thickly ingrown with juniper trees.  The grove formed an imperfect circle with a small clearing in the center.  Even in brilliant sunlight, the wall of trees and the dense canopy above shielded the clearing from most of the sun’s rays resulting in a rather shadowy, dusky, and sometimes gloomy effect.  It was at this place, Yinchen Grove, that Zuko had agreed to meet and talk with Mai.  Katara had also consented to the request, somewhat more graciously than he had.  In fact, she had seemed almost too willing, as though she was eager for him to talk to her.  He could not say with absolutely certainty, but he had understood it almost immediately to be an act of guilt.  She had been quiet and pensive most of the day and even more so during their trek toward the grove.  If Mai had continued to be furious and spiteful, it would make it easy for Katara to ignore the fact that Mai had a valid reason to be angry.  What they had done was wrong.  But if Mai had come back in an attempt to smooth things over and talk it through like civilized people, it would be much more difficult to paint themselves in a guiltless light.

The outline of Yinchen Grove finally began to emerge up ahead of them.  The contrast of the sinewy palm trees and the stout juniper trees created an irregular, almost jagged, silhouette jutting up from the edge of the precipice.  When they had nearly reached the outer edge of the grove, Zuko could see the tall and thin outline of Mai waiting for them, her arms folded across her chest in her typical stance.   She shifted her weight slightly when she noticed them approaching and wasted no time speaking once they arrived.

“I’d like to talk to Zuko privately first if you don’t mind,” she said.  He could hear a vague hint of disdain in her last three words, but he chose to ignore it.

Zuko turned to Mai and gave a faint nod.  “Alright.  Just give us a second first.”  She did not outwardly respond but yielded to his request by turning and disappearing into the grove to wait for him.  He turned back to Katara and placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder.  “I’ll only be a minute, and then I’ll come back to get you.  Just wait here.”  He could see what appeared to be a hint of concern in her eyes, so he emphasized, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”  Zuko gave her arm one last reassuring squeeze before turning to enter the grove when he was suddenly tugged to a stop.

“Zuko,” Katara finally spoke, catching hold of his sleeve.  “Are you sure you really want to do this?  I mean us.  Maybe this was all a mistake.  You heard what Mai said; she wants to talk.”

“Katara…” he tried to interrupt, but was swiftly cut off.

“Maybe it’s not too late to tell her you’re sorry.  Maybe she’ll forgive you –”

“Katara!” he raised his voice boldly to shatter her frenzy.  “Listen to me.”  His tone softened as he cupped both sides of her face in his hands, staring deeply into her sapphire eyes.  “I don’t want her back.  I want you.  This,” he said, kissing her softly, “wasn’t a mistake.  Sure, it was safer with Mai, easier, more predictable maybe.  But standing forever on that side of caution meant that I would always be too far away from you.  I couldn’t pretend anymore; that’s all it’s ever been with Mai – pretending.”  He looked into her eyes earnestly and wiped away a tear that was trickling down her cheek.  “She can’t hold a candle to you,” he whispered tenderly as he placed his lips on hers again, more passionately this time, before turning to enter Yinchen Grove.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara sighed, shifting her weight on her feet as she tried to get a glimpse of the scene progressing within the grove, but the foliage was too dense and the lack of moonlight made it difficult for her to get much of a picture.  Occasionally a vague movement caught her eye through a break in the foliage, but it always disappeared again just as quickly.  Her arms were getting weary from holding the shield of water over her head.  She hoped their little meeting would not take too long.

A faint rustling from behind her made her jump and spin around quickly.  She scanned her surroundings anxiously, trying to pinpoint the culprit.  Suddenly an owlcat took flight from a nearby tree and swooped down to snatch up an unsuspecting turtlefrog that was emerging from the undergrowth behind her and then flew into the night with its prey dangling from its talons.  A sputtering sigh escaped her as she realized the cause and she willed herself to relax slightly, chastising herself for being so jumpy.

The unexpected disturbance made her suddenly aware of how alone she was outside of the grove.  With the moon invisible behind the dense storm clouds, the night was unsettlingly dark.  With the rain accounted for, she could not see much further than ten feet in front of her.  She tried to convince herself that her imagination was trying to deceive her, but she could not shake the feeling of being watched that had rapidly descended upon her.

Thunder clapped in the sky.  Katara shuddered.  She could not explain her sudden wariness, but something seemed out of place.  A terrible feeling was churning in the pit of her stomach, a foreboding feeling that was telling her something was about to go horribly wrong.  She tried to chock it up to the fact that she had been left alone in the dark in a rainstorm and awaiting an uncomfortable confrontation, but she knew deep within that there was something else.  She just could not place it.

She was so transfixed on searching what little landscape she could make out before her, giving special attention to the hill she and Zuko had ascended which might lend an ideal hideout for anyone wishing to sneak up on her, that she did not see the hand that suddenly shot into her peripheral vision and clamped down around her mouth.  She inhaled sharply through her nose and tried to scream, but the cry was stifled by the hand over her mouth.  She flailed and squirmed to try to free herself of her assailant, but another hand came down swiftly on her shoulder, the firm grasp bringing her struggling to a halt.

“If it isn’t the master waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe.”  A deep masculine voice hissed into her right ear, the warm breath grazing the side of her face.  “I was expecting it to prove more of a challenge to ambush such a skilled combatant.  It’s rather disappointing really.”  The voice was dripping with disdain and arrogance, taunting her with a tone that both frightened her and made her blood boil.  “Now you’re going to come with me, little girl.  And if you’re thinking of screaming or struggling again, it would be wise of you to reconsider.”

Katara’s feet moved forward against her will as her assailant began to force her ahead, half dragging, half carrying her away from Yinchen Grove and toward the edge of the precipice.  She tried to use the heels of her feet to ground herself in attempt to slow the man down and twist her body around to give her more control of the situation, but his brute strength was far superior and her efforts did little to thwart his progress.  She made a desperate attempt to look around the man’s arm, hoping to see Zuko returning for her but the scene was dishearteningly still and her shoulders were quickly whipped back into place.  She could scream again, but she knew that would only serve to hasten her attacker’s efforts and Zuko would never reach her in time anyway.  Her only chance of escape was to fight back and she would have to be quick and precise.

She raised her lower arms forward just slightly, though still beneath his line of vision, in a slow and subtle movement, careful not to attract any attention to her actions.  She only needed a small amount of arm function to inflict a damaging enough blow to catch him off-guard and allow her the time she needed to race back to the company of Zuko.  If he pursued her, which she doubted considering the odds of two against one, she was certain the two of them could take him.  She extended her fingers in a wide fan and concentrated on the man behind her and the driving rain hammering around them.  In a swift and sudden motion, she lurched her hands downward; the raindrops above and around the attacker immediately turned to shards of ice that were sent hurling toward him and swiftly embedded themselves in his flesh, not too deeply but just enough to cause him to release his grip on her and let out a throaty grunt of pain.

Katara did not waste a moment.  She spun around quickly to run back toward the grove, pausing for a fleeting moment to risk a cursory glance at her assailant, when a knot in her stomach caused her to come to a stunned stop.  She let out a sharp gasp and her eyes widened in horror at the man who was staggering before her from the sting of her attack, his golden eyes glaring dangerously up at her as he fought off the pain.  Those eyes looked so familiar; suddenly the gravity of the situation dawned on her as she realized exactly who she was up against.  She blinked in shock, not wanting to believe what she saw, but her fears were confirmed when he finally regained his footing and stood at his full height to tower above her, his face in full view now.  The resemblance to Zuko was striking and there was no mistaking now exactly who the man was standing before her.

The moment of hesitation was all Ozai needed to regain his control over Katara.  He lunged forward and grasped her arm, flinging her around to catch her other arm and clasped both her wrists tightly behind her back.  He was not about to let her try another move like that again.  The shards of ice that had been protruding from his flesh had mostly melted and were mixing back into the rain streaming down his skin.

Katara knew her battle was almost lost.  All she could do now was scream despite Ozai’s former warning and hope that Zuko would hear her before she was dragged away.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

A sharp virile grunt pierced the thickness of night from somewhere to Zuko’s left beyond the barrier of trees outside the grove.  The unexpected outcry made Zuko jump and his focus on the conversation at hand was instantly shaken.  He hesitated a moment as he tried to listen for any further commotion, wondering if he had only imagined it.  But the sound was soon followed by a shrill, frightened scream which he recognized immediately.

“Katara!”

He spun around and dashed like mad in the direction of the clamor when he felt something whiz by his head, nearly grazing his face, and lodge into a tree directly in front on him with a dull yet momentous _thud_.  The disturbance startled him to a stop as he nearly lost his footing on the muddy terrain.  A long streamlined blade jutted out from the tree at a point exactly level with his head.  He whisked around quickly to see Mai standing where he had left her, holding a matching throwing knife in her right hand. 

 _Damn it!_ he screamed internally.  They were set up!  He should have known better than to believe Mai would have a change of heart.  He knew what she was capable of; why had he given her the benefit of the doubt?  Now both his and Katara’s lives were in danger.  He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.  The moment he had seen Mai returning to the beach house, he should have known they were as good as dead.  But Mai had spun a shrewd and convincing web, lurking there and waiting for them just like a spider, and like naïve fire ants they had walked right into it. 

 

Zuko could see she was quivering slightly and from the look on her face she was not entirely bent on taking his life.  In fact he knew all too well that if she had truly meant to kill him she would have succeeded before he had even realized what had happened.  Her brows trembled as she fought back oncoming tears and then suddenly sped off in full tilt, running like wildfire out of the grove toward the direction of the commotion.  Zuko’s feet lost traction briefly on the slimy, sopping ground as he darted after her, giving Mai a head start.  He crashed through the trees and underbrush, shielding his face from the brambly limbs, to see her sprinting toward the edge of the precipice.

Katara was nowhere to be seen, but he could still make out her now fainter frantic cries coming somewhere from the underside of the cliff, which was clearly Mai’s trajectory as well.  He knew he needed to get to Katara fast, but the attacker would soon have help if he did not deal with Mai first.  Lunging forward to close as much distance as he could, he shot a wall of flames forward and maneuvered it to create a blockade between her and her intended route of escape.  She skidded to a stop, looking around frenetically for another way out.  She tried a desperate dart to the left, spotting an opening in the flames, but Zuko was already upon her.  He tackled her to the ground, pressing all his weight onto her back and arms to hinder her retaliation.  She groaned and struggled for a moment and then finally relinquished her efforts in a mix of both exhaustion and anguish.  Sensing that the fight in her was no longer a threat, he released some of his weight on her to clasp both of her wrists behind her back before bringing her up to her knees.  With a wave of his hand he doused the flames and turned his attention to the drop-off.  He was not about to release his hold and risk another attack on his life so he dragged Mai over to the edge of the cliff and searched arduously for Katara and her captor.

It was difficult to make out anything through the impenetrable darkness, but his eyes followed the sound of Katara’s screams to a single fisherman’s ship docked along the rocky bank below.  A dark, indistinct shadow moved onto the deck of the ship as another shadow untied the vessel and shoved it fully into the rippling sea.  _Katara_.  He jumped up to chase after the ship, but reason took over and he knew he would never catch it in time.  Perhaps he could extract some information from Mai and catch up to them on Appa.

Katara’s cries continued to rise up and Zuko strained to discern what she was trying to tell him.  The rain seemed to shatter and muddle most of the words before they reached his ears.  But suddenly a chain of very distinct phrases got through to him that made his stomach contort and constrict.

“It’s your father!” her voice screamed out.  “Ozai, he’s –!”

Her coherent shouts gave way abruptly to muffled gibberish as a gag was placed over her mouth.  Zuko watched as the ship sailed further away, engulfed by the darkness.  He whipped around to Mai whose wrists remained clasped tightly in his hand and turned her around fiercely to face him.

“What have you done _?_!” he roared.  She refused to look up at him; her shoulders sagged in a dejected slump as she stared toward the ground with a mix of anguish and bitterness.  He seized both her shoulders and shook her forcefully.  “Tell me where he’s taking her!  What does he want with Katara _?_!” 

Her lower lip quivered as tears began to stream down her face.  Slowly she turned her face to look at him.  She had let Ozai manipulate her vindictive feelings, and in her vulnerable state she had actually believed that he was doing this for her, that he only wanted to help her.  Now she realized that he had been planning to do this all along, obviously wanting to use Katara for something, and had capitalized on her situation in order to achieve his freedom.  She still felt resentful toward Zuko and Katara; but by not helping him, she would be letting Ozai get away with all he had done, and she was not about to let that man get away with one more sleazy thing.  Helping Zuko was the lesser of two evils.

“I don’t know much,” she began in a defeated whisper.  “But I’ll tell you what I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Aang touched down on the waterlogged ground at the beach house and swiveled his glider closed.  A few of the lamps lining the front terrace still fought to stay ablaze amidst the driving rain, but most had long since died out.  The house itself appeared lifeless and empty both inside and out, which he thought was odd.  The unusual silence felt heavy and almost tangible, permeated only by the steady pelting rain.  There was an almost eerie quality to the deserted scene.  He walked toward the terrace, scanning the landscape for any sign of human life as he advanced, and ascended the front steps of the terrace.

“Sokka?” he called out.  Silence. 

“Suki?  Toph?”  Still no answer.  The only sound was the steady drumming of rain on the veranda.

In a swift motion he bent the water from his dripping wet clothing and turned toward the door, about to head inside to search for his friends, when a piece of paper pinned to the door caught his eye.  There was writing on it but it was difficult to make out in the dark.  He yanked the paper down and brought it closer so that he could read it. 

_Gone searching for Aang.  Be back by morning._

They were all out looking for him?  No, that made no sense.  It did not sound like the letter was left for him.  Someone must have stayed behind…

He looked up from the paper and scanned the surroundings more closely.  “Hello?” he called out, straining his eyes to make sure he had not missed someone on his arrival.  Just then he heard the sound of sprinting footsteps coming from behind him and growing closer with alarming speed.  He spun around quickly, poised to defend himself against an attacker, only to see Zuko racing toward him with a look of urgency on his face, dragging Mai by the hand behind him.  The startled expression on Aang’s face quickly melted into fury at the sight of the firebender.  Upon his return, he had known that confronting Zuko was inevitable and in preparation he had meditated and performed countless calming exercises in order to subdue his outrage for fear that he would lash out in a way he would later regret.  But preparing to see Zuko and seeing him now were two very different playing fields.  He gritted his teeth, feeling the anger igniting inside of him once again; but something about the urgency in Zuko’s face and demeanor stayed his tongue as he arrived at the bottom of the terrace before Aang, thoroughly out of breath.

Aang fought back the urge to tear at the scoundrel for the time being as his curiosity got the better of him.  “What’s going?” he managed to ask, making no effort to hide the contempt in his voice.  “What’s wrong?”  He would get to the bottom of the issue and then he could rail on Zuko all he wanted.

“I need you – to handcuff – Mai – to the terrace,” he panted as he struggled to catch his breath.

Aang could not hide the puzzled look that overwhelmed his face.  “What?  Why?”

“Just do it!  And then I’ll tell you.”

The odd request made him nervous.  Whatever was going on seemed to be more serious than he had first thought.  He glanced over at Mai to gauge her reaction.  She was scowling at the ground, her gaze fixed downward.  Her expression was indignant and defiant, but her posture screamed of guilt and defeat, and she was not putting up a fight, which told him that Zuko had good reason to do what he was asking.  _This cannot be good_ , he thought.

“Hurry up!” Zuko hollered impatiently.

Aang sighed nervously as Zuko held Mai’s hands against the post of the terrace.  With a modest stomp of his foot and flick of his wrists, he bent some mud from the ground to form makeshift handcuffs around the girl’s wrists and secured it to the post.

“There!” he huffed sarcastically.  “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“Where is everyone else?  Where’s Appa?”

“They’re all out looking for me, they left a note.  Why?”

“It’s Katara – she’s been kidnapped!”

“What? _!_ ”  The news hit him like a swift kick in the stomach.  It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.  “How –?”

“Mai thought it would be a good idea to bust my crazy dad out of jail in return for him helping her get payback on Katara and me.  Well, now Ozai has Katara and it turns out Mai was the one who ended up getting used.”  Bitterness dripped from his last few words as he scowled at the girl, who only turned her head further away.

A wave of panic nearly knocked Aang to his feet.  He was still furious at Katara, but being in the clutches of Ozai was something he would not wish on his worst enemy.  He knew the kinds of evil that man was capable of.  His heart began to race as the familiar surge of energy beneath his tattoos started to cloud his senses.  A rush of anger shot through his veins as he stormed down the steps of the terrace to stand inches before Zuko.

“This is all your fault!” he roared, pointing menacingly at the firebender.

“My fault? _!_   Are you crazy?  Mai is the one you should be blaming!”

“If you hadn’t been sleazing around behind our backs and tried to take Katara for yourself none of this would have happened!”  A faint glow began to emanate from his tattoos.  His avatar state was threatening to take over.  The energy was becoming more powerful and he was starting to lose control.

“Agh,” Zuko groaned, running his fingers over his head and clutching a fistful of hair.  “Aang, listen, we don’t have time for this.  Katara is in danger.  You and I can duke it out later all you like, but right now we have to try to catch up to Ozai.  I saw him take her onto a boat below Yinchen Grove.  You have a glider.  If you hurry, you might be able to catch up to them.”

Aang continued to glare daggers at Zuko, but the glowing of his tattoos slowly subsided.  He was right.  This could wait, but Katara could not. 

“Fine.  I’ll go after them.  But not for _you_ , and _not_ because you asked me to.”  He thought as he slammed open his glider and prepared to lift off before shooting one last threatening glance at Zuko.  “This is not over.  We’ll finish this later.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

 _“Fine.  I’ll go after them.  But not for_ you _, and_ not _because you asked me to.”_

His last words echoed through his head as Aang soared beyond the cliffs of Yinchen Grove and over the open sea.  The cold raindrops pelted his bare face like tiny pinpricks, his skin tingling all over from the faint stinging.  An uncharacteristic cold front had followed the storm to the Fire Nation.  Aang had grown accustomed to the country’s high temperatures and the unusual chill of the winds cut him through to the core.

 _I shouldn’t even do it for her_ , he thought.  Guilt nagged at his heart the moment he allowed himself to think it.  _Forgiveness_.  _Forgiveness_ , he kept chanting to himself between deep breaths, but it felt like an empty word now, devoid of meaning to his wounded heart.  Ozai was merciless he knew.  There was no telling what his intentions were with Katara, but what was certain was that her life was in danger as long as he held her captive.  Yet knowing that was still not enough to suppress the cynical thoughts that were gaining ground within him.  After what she had done to him, he was hardly in the mood to just go dashing to her rescue like some pathetic, well-trained puppy dog.  Did she really deserve that?  She would probably just run back to Zuko once everything was said and done.

A dense fog was spread out over the ocean like an impenetrable veil, making it nearly impossible to see any reasonable distance ahead.  Aang was beginning to lose his sense of direction; he might be going in circles for all he knew.  If only he had use of his bending while on his glider.

On the other hand, did she really deserve to be dragged to the depths of who-knows-where, falling victim to the likes of Ozai while he sat idly by and knowingly let it happen?  He was not so bitter that he was unable to rise above the circumstances when she was in need, was he?  After all, he still cared about her… didn’t he?

One thing he did know was that Ozai would not have gone through the trouble of capturing Katara if he intended to kill her immediately.  That would be rash and reckless, and Ozai prided himself on neither of those attributes.  He must have some use for her in whatever malicious plan he was devising, and Aang was certain that would keep her alive for the time being.  Perhaps he should just let her fret about it for a little while before he became the hero.  Then she would see just how much trouble her selfishness and infidelity had caused and how thankful she should be to have a guy like himself devoted to her.  Yes, he was confident in his theory.  He would not make her wait long.  Just long enough.

Besides, it did not look like he had much of a chance of finding the ship in these conditions.  The darkness of night was made darker by the heavy storm clouds.  The ship could have taken any number of routes, probably sailing quickly with help from the wind, and between the thick fog and driving rain he could not see more than five feet’s distance in any direction.  He decided instead to find his way back to the beach house and figure out what to do then.  Besides, he had some unfinished business in need of settling with Zuko.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Aang arrived back at the house as an impatient Zuko rose hastily from the terrace steps and rushed down to meet him before Aang could reach the shelter of the roof.

“Well?” the young Fire Lord asked impatiently.

“I couldn’t find them,” Aang answered, with a tone Zuko thought sounded less than concerned, almost indifferent.  “There was a thick fog, I couldn’t see a thing.”

“So that’s it?  You’re just giving up?  You obviously didn’t try hard enough!  Go back!”

“Hey!” he shouted defensively.  “I did the best I could.  How dare you act like you’re the only one here who cares for Katara!  I’m the one who really loves her.  If you cared about her at all, you would never have gotten her involved in what you did!”

“Hey, it’s not exactly like I forced her into it.  She had an equal part in this too.”  He knew as the words escaped him that it was probably not the wisest thing to say, but at the moment he did not care.

“Agghh!” Aang roared, spinning around and storming several feet from Zuko.  If he looked at the that firebender for one more minute, his avatar state was going to unleash itself in a way that would make his battle with Ozai look like child’s play.  He was seething with anger, his breathing shallow and rapid, and both Aang and Zuko stood frozen and tense.

After several moments of silence, Zuko finally advanced slowly toward Aang and stopped a safe distance behind him.

“I’m sorry, Aang,” he finally spoke.  The avatar did not turn around; he did not move at all, but Zuko continued.  “I’m sorry about what I did to you.  You’re my friend, and I betrayed your trust.”

Aang remained motionless, unflinching and frozen like a statue, save for the vehement heaving of his chest.  “But I really do care about Katara.  I love her.  I have for a long time.  And what happened between us was not a mistake.  It was destined to happen eventually; but it should not have happened the way it did.  And for that I’m sorry.   I know Katara cares about you, but she does have feelings for me and that’s something you’re going to have to accept sooner or later.”  Zuko paused to let his words sink in and give Aang a chance to respond.  But he was met only with a cold silence.  “Aang, please try to understand.”

Aang kept his back turned to the firebender and clenched his eyes shut as though to block Zuko’s words.  He did not want to understand.  He was trying very hard _not_ to understand, because understanding meant admitting there was some justification to what had happened.  It meant admitting that perhaps he had not been the man that Katara needed.

“Oh, I understand very clearly,” Aang finally muttered in a sullen, cynical tone, turning around at last and glaring at Zuko.  “I understand that no matter how well you think you know someone, you never really know them at all.  I understand that the only person you can ever truly trust is yourself.”

“Aang, you’re back!” a cheerful voice suddenly rang out, piercing the tension between them.  Suki ran up and threw her arms around his neck before he had time to brace himself.  Looking over her shoulder he saw Toph and Sokka climbing down from Appa.  Toph began making her way over to them while Sokka stayed behind to unload Appa’s saddle.

“I was really starting to worry about you,” Suki chirped on, but her bubbly countenance soon faded as the somber aura between the two young men dawned on her.  She was about to say something in regards, but Toph beat her to the punch.

“You guys seem just a _little_ on edge,” she said in her usual flippant manner as she arrived next to them.  “Your heartbeats are going berserk.”  Toph paused briefly as the negative energy crashed over her, replacing the smirk on her face with a solemn expression.  Suddenly her voice took on a more serious tone.  “Something bad is going on, isn’t?”

In the corner of her eye, a figure Suki had not noticed before caught her attention.  Looking over, she was shocked to see Mai with her hands behind her back, bound to the terrace.   She glanced back over at Aang and then at Zuko.   “Guys, what’s going on?” she asked hesitantly.

Zuko took a deep breath and relayed a concise version of the evening’s events much to the horror of the two girls.  Then, directing his attention back at Aang, he continued, “Our best bet is just to head back to the palace as quickly as possible.  I’ll put the Fire Nation on high alert and send an urgent letter to the Earth King and the Chiefs of the Water Tribes informing them of Ozai’s escape and that he’s taken a hostage.  They’ll issue a warrant and a reward for Ozai’s arrest and a mandate for the safe return of Katara, with a reward as well.  I will make sure he has no place to go; there will be eyes and ears the world over watching for him.”

“Well I’m glad to see you two are on speaking terms again,” Sokka said jovially as he sauntered over to the group.  All eyes turned toward him as a stunned silence befell the scene.  The croak of a solitary turtlefrog echoed in the night, amplified amidst the sudden hush.  The confounded expressions on his friends’ faces stopped Sokka in his tracks.  “What?” he asked nervously.  “Hey, why is Mai handcuffed to the terrace?  And where is Katara?”  Toph groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“We’ll tell you on the way,” Zuko replied abruptly as he walked toward the bison and gestured for the others to follow.  “Come on, get Appa saddled up.”

“Ohhh, but I just took it off,” Sokka protested in an exaggerated whine.

“Well put it back on.  Believe me, Sokka, when I say there’s no time to waste.”

 .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara struggled to no avail as Ozai dragged her down the small flight of stairs that led below deck.  Her screams and protests were muffled by the gag around her mouth and her hands had been bound behind her back with a rope to prevent any further waterbending.  Every attempt she made to fend him off was lost against his superior strength.  A large whiff of dank, musty air assaulted her lungs, making her cough and wheeze as they descended into the shadowy hull of the ship.  They progressed in the same thrashing manner for several feet until they reached an open door to a small room.  Without warning, Ozai hurled Katara into the dimly lit cabin, sending her nearly toppling over from the force.  She somehow managed to maintain her footing and whipped back around to see Ozai glaring menacingly at her.

“Let me make something very clear to you right now, water serpent,” he growled.  “As long as you behave and cause no further trouble, the odds that I will spare your life will be much improved.  However, if you ever try anything remotely along the lines of that foolish water attack again, I assure you that no amount of ice spikes or water whips will save you from the punishment I will inflict on you.”

He allowed his threatening glare to linger on her a moment longer for emphasis and then closed the door behind him, locking it from the outside.  Whether from fear or exhaustion, Katara’s legs wavered beneath her and then suddenly gave out as she slumped to her knees.  Hopelessness was beginning to set in.  She half crawled, half slid across the floor to the nearest wall and rested her head back as the tears she had been suppressing finally burst forth.


	6. Chapter 6

Ozai stood at the stern of the ship and gazed toward the vacant horizon, watching the current rippling behind as the vessel cut through the water.  The driving rain had finally diminished to a fine mist, but the powerful winds remained, whipping his ebony hair wildly about his face.  By his calculations, they should arrive at their destination in five days if the winds blew steady, and he knew it would linger for a few days longer.  The dying storm would prove to his advantage.  It would give him just the edge he needed to get out of range of any pursuers.  Still, he was not taking any chances.  Once they made it up and around the northwestern coast of the Earth Kingdom toward the Ruins of Taku he could let his guard down slightly, but until then he would continue to keep a watchful eye out for anyone who might be following them.  From there, they would more or less blend in.  Many fishing villages and ports lined the channel that ran through the center of the Earth Kingdom, alongside the massive forest that spanned the length of that channel from well before the Ruins of Taku to the village of Gaipan.  A fishing vessel would be the least conspicuous guise possible.

An age-old rumor had long been told of an ancient book that had been buried somewhere deep within that forest centuries ago.  It was written by a corrupted sage who had coveted the Avatar’s power.  He had allegedly devoted his life’s work to unraveling the intricate web of the cosmos and how the Avatar was linked to it.  If he could find a tear in the order of the cosmos, a loophole in the earth’s balance that allowed him to manipulate the Avatar’s energy, perhaps he could strip it from the Avatar and take it for himself.  Legend had it that the sage had buried the book to hide it from distrusting eyes when he was suspected of disloyalty.  But shortly thereafter, he was mysteriously murdered and the book, which was considered by most to be the ravings of a power-hungry lunatic, was never found.

But Ozai knew better.  He had taken a strong interest in the sage’s history as a young man while attending the Fire Nation Royal Academy.  What he learned had greatly intrigued him.  The book had been written in an archaic language, which had long since died out, in an attempt to encrypt his work.  It was no longer taught in schools, but Ozai had coincidentally been studying the language in his personal time, having been drawn to its strangely beautiful sound and exotic script.  He knew it was his destiny to uncover this artifact, he could see that now.  With the knowledge it contained, he would be virtually unstoppable, finally able to finish what he started two years ago as Phoenix King.

The sky had brightened considerably since the worst of the storm had passed but it was still covered by a thick, seemingly endless blanket of smoky-white clouds.  He could not see the sun, but he knew the day was progressing well into late morning.  The girl would need food and water before too long if she was to be of any use to him.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw Jiao wrestling with the sailing lines and appearing to be having a difficult time.  “Imbecile,” he muttered under his breath, scowling as he turned his attention toward the hatch that led below deck.  He had no desire to bother with Jiao at the moment; he would just have to do it himself.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Shadows quivered on the walls as the solitary lantern in the room flickered and sputtered.  Katara groaned and rolled on her side slightly before the throbbing ache forced her to stop.  Her entire body felt sore and stiff from spending the night in a shallow sleep in an odd, twisted position on the hard wooden floor.  Her hands were still bound behind her back and the joints in her shoulders screamed out their protest, throbbing with a stiff, dull pain.  She did not need to see her face to know that her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying herself to sleep.

After a great deal of effort, she finally managed to raise herself delicately to a seated position, resting her head back against the wall as she recovered from the exertion.  A small beam of white-grey light shone in through a crack in the top of the opposing wall and cast a pale crescent moon on the wall above her head, the only visible evidence that morning had indeed come.

Katara looked around the room, finally taking in her surroundings more closely.  The air felt stuffy and stagnant and smelled strongly of fish.  It was a small room, mostly sparse with a few tools and knick-knacks strewn haphazardly about.  Two stone storage jars, one large and one small, sat near the corner; the large one was standing upright while the other had fallen on its side and rocked gently with the swaying of the ship.  An intricate design appeared to have been carved into them, but the surface had long since been eroded; algae and limestone had crept over the stone exterior, obscuring the once-beautiful handiwork.   An old weathered net was hanging erratically from the wall next to her, as though thrown carelessly onto the nails which held it.  She recognized it as the type fishermen often use in the Fire Nation.  _No wonder the ship smells like fish_ , she thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of purposeful footsteps outside her door and a key turning in the lock.  The door opened with a groan, the towering figure of Ozai emerging in its void.  He appeared to study her with a cold concentration before stepping contemptuously into the room.

“Sleep well?” he asked, a sardonic sneer splayed across his lips.

Her icy sapphire glare pierced into him as he approached where she sat.  Katara shifted slightly as he drew near but held her position; the last thing she wanted to do was make herself look weak or frightened.

“Here,” he said somewhat petulantly, holding out a chunk of bread and a goblet of water and setting them on the floor before her.  She shot daggers at him and turned her head away in refusal.  He may have the upper hand, but she was not going to make it easy for him.  Ozai’s lip quivered in vexation but he fought back the urge to retaliate against her indignation for the moment.  “You need to eat.”  It was more of a command than a suggestion.

Katara could not mask her confusion as she turned back to him and cast him a distrusting glance.  “Why bother feeding me if you’re just going to kill me?”

“Kill you?” he chuckled derisively.  “Believe me, if I’d intended to kill you, I would have spared myself the trouble of dragging you aboard this ship.”

“Then please let me go, you have no use for me.”

A devious smirk turned up the corners of his mouth in a way that sent shivers up her spine.  “I never said I had no use for you.”

A hint of panic flashed across her face as her brows quaked with apprehension.  “What do you need me for?  If there’s something you want, just name it and perhaps the Avatar will make a deal with you.”

“Really?” he drawled.  “In return for the freedom of the woman who betrayed him?”

Katara’s heart froze.  How did he know about that?  It made her wonder what else he knew about her.  She suddenly felt painfully bare and vulnerable before him, drawing her knees in toward her slightly as though to hide herself.

“I rather doubt it.”  Ozai grinned, reveling in the girl’s marked uneasiness before he continued.  “And it’s quite unlikely that the Avatar would take kindly to my terms, so there’s no sense in my negotiating anything.  The Avatar will give me what I want in due time, I will make certain of that.  And as long as you cooperate and do as I say, no harm will come to you.  Defy me, and I will make you truly sorry.”  He hesitated to let his words sink in.  “Is that understood?”

“What are you planning?” she stammered.  “You’re not going to hurt Aang are you?”

“That’s none of your concern,” he said with a stern finality.  “Now eat up.  You’ll need the energy.”  And with that he turned and exited the room, locking the door securely behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Time passed agonizingly slowly and without incident after Katara’s initial brush with Ozai.  If it had not been for the small crack in the wall she would have had no way of distinguishing day from night.  She was thankful for that much.  She knew that they had been traveling for the better part of two days, and the sun would soon be rising on the third, but it felt like she had been trapped in that room for a week at least.  She wondered how much longer it would be until they stopped to replenish their food supplies.  They must be starting to run low with three mouths to feed on the ship.  _Or two and a half if you count the way they feed me_ , she thought. 

Katara was left alone for the most part.  The only time she saw another face was the few occasions when Jiao came to drop off bread and water.  Ozai did not come to her again, and although she was relieved a small part of her could not help feeling somewhat insulted.  Her encounters with Jiao were uneventful.  He rarely said a word to her, although he often snubbed his nose at her and occasionally she could hear him mutter something under his breath along the lines of, “Stupid girl,” and, “Not a damned servant,” as he placed the food in front of her and walked out.

During the course of her meals, she had mastered the art of eating and drinking without the use of her hands.  She would lower her head to the floor and take bites out of the bread, forcing herself not to think about the grime that was encrusted between the grubby wooden boards underneath.  Similarly she would lower her head to the iron goblet and grab it in her mouth, and carefully raise herself back up to a seated position.  Tilting her head back slowly, she was able to gulp down most of the water without losing too much of it.  It had been difficult and not without failure at first, dribbling water down the front of her dress more than once.  But before too long, she had the process down to a tee and was able to temporarily sate her grumbling stomach with relative ease.

What was left of the ravaging storm had finally dissipated and had left a cool refreshing crispness to the air in its wake.  The sun was beginning to rise, unadulterated by its previous cloud cover, spilling its welcome golden-white glow in through the half moon-shaped crack in the wall.  An occasional wisp of cool breeze wafted through the crack and kissed Katara’s face as she inhaled and savored whatever bits of fresh air she could.

It was not long into the morning before Katara felt a gentle pulling sensation, signaling to her that the ship was slowing down and preparing to come to a stop.  Just as she had thought.  Suddenly a new hope arose within her as she realized she might have an opportunity to escape.  She squirmed and struggled against the rope around her wrists to see if she could wriggle out of them but it refused to budge.  There was no way she could get out of the room without the use of her hands to pick the lock or knock a hole in the side of the ship.  She could scream for help and perhaps someone would hear her.  But she would need to be sure that Ozai was far enough away from the ship to do anything about the attention she would attract or she could be plotting her own demise.  If only the crack in the wall were low enough for her to see through.

The ship finally came to a standstill and she could hear two sets of footsteps above her advance to the edge and fade away as Ozai and Jiao disembarked.  From her location, she could hear the muted sounds of a bustling port market just outside.  People.  Lots of people.  She was potentially within mere feet of help but entirely invisible to anyone who might assist her.  Even if she did yell out, it would be unlikely that anyone would hear her over the drone of murmurs and shouts around them.

Finally, after what felt like hours, with no other option and desperation setting in, she was about to try her luck anyway when the clonking of footsteps reappeared on deck above her.  It was clearly a single set this time.  Ozai or Jiao must have been thinking along the same lines as she and come back early while the other picked up the supplies.  The sound was somewhat different than before though; the footsteps seemed less deliberate and almost tentative as they made their way to the center of the ship where she heard the distinct creaking of the hatch being opened.  Perhaps Ozai had decided to pay her another visit after all.

The footsteps plodded down the ladder and into the main hull, making their way toward her room, scuffling in erratic circles as though hastily searching the space.  There was something off about them; something was not right.  And it definitely did not sound like Ozai. 

A nervous pang began to grow in the pit of her stomach as the scuffling drew nearer and came to a stop directly in front of her door.  Katara froze, unaware that she was holding her breath, listening with all her might for any clue as to the person’s intentions or identity.  But nothing came.  There was only a maddening stillness and silence.  Had she imagined it?  Perhaps exhaustion and nerves were making her delirious.

Her concentration was quickly broken by the resounding of a dual set of footsteps coming aboard above her.  This time she recognized the plodding instantly.  With the same gentle pull, the ship set off on course once again.  The lively humming of the port grew fainter as they left it behind.  Moments ago, she had been so close to rescue and yet completely unable to attain it.  And now her chance was gone.  A pent up sigh of frustration released itself slowly, only to be recaptured in a gasp as the knob on her door started jiggling.  She knew she had not imaged it!  There _was_ someone else on the ship.  Someone who was not supposed to be, from the sound of it.  Someone who did not want to be found.

Katara’s heart began to pound in her chest as she waited for the door to burst open.  But instead the jiggling stopped, replaced shortly by a gentle metallic scratching.  _They’re picking the lock_ , she realized in horror.  With a dreaded click, the lock released and Katara watched helplessly as the door creaked open, just enough to allow the figure of a ragged man to pass through. 

In the flickering glow of the lantern and the fragment of daylight that seeped in through the crack, she could see that the man looked haggard and filthy.  Dirt and grime encrusted much of his clothing and his skin did not fare much better.  His lank black hair was long and greasy and his wiry beard appeared gritty and matted.    There was an intensity, a fierceness about his expression that rendered to Katara one word: danger.

The man’s face donned a devilish, half-toothed grin as he spotted Katara, and held one grubby finger up to his chafing lips to motion her to stay quiet.  He closed the door silently behind him and took a step forward.

“Well, hello,” he uttered in a salacious tone as he began a slow swagger toward her.  “It must be my lucky day.  First, I come across an unguarded ship to hop a free ride on, and now I find a little present down here all gift-wrapped and waiting just for me.”

“Stay away from me,” Katara warned, shimmying away from him.

“Oh come now, deary, I won’t bite.  Much.”  His malicious grin grew larger as he suddenly reached for her, seizing her by her dress collar and forcing her to her feet.  He lunged forward, open-mouthed, tongue jutting out, in a sloppy attempt to kiss her.  Katara screamed, thrashing and flailing against his advances as he pushed her against the wall.  At least once she felt the warm, wet sensation of his tongue as it made contact with her cheek.  His breath reeked of liquor and tooth decay, making her gag and choke on her screams with every inhale.  Amidst her desperate writhing, she felt the sleeve of her dress rip beneath his grip on her, exposing her sinewy shoulder.

“Get off me!” she shrieked.  Just as she felt the intruder yank on her sleeve to broaden the tear, the door burst open and in it stood a mildly shocked and outraged Ozai.  The trespasser flinched and reflexively loosened his grasp on Katara, appearing just as stunned by the sudden interruption.

“Who the devil are you and what are you doing aboard this ship?” Ozai demanded.

“I– I’m no one.  Just a simple beggar in need of passage away from that village.”  It amazed Katara how quickly the brazen scoundrel was reduced to a sniveling fool in Ozai’s daunting presence.

He took a menacing step toward the vagabond.  “You mean you’re a thief and you needed to stow away to escape the death warrant on your head.”  He continued forward slowly as he spoke.  “You dare to step foot on my ship uninvited and without permission and then proceed to assault my hostage?”

“Please, sir, I mean no harm.”

Ozai came to stand within a mere few inches of the cringing man, towering a good head above him, scowling down a warning.

“I suppose rape is something you consider to be of no harm then.”

“I–  Uh–  Please, it’s not what it looks like–”

“Step away from her,” Ozai demanded, cutting him off.  The man did not move, appearing to be frozen by fear.  “Now.”

The intruder finally released his hold on Katara and took a step back, leaving her trembling from the mild shock of the incident.  Ozai cast a sideways glance at her, scanning her quickly to rule out the need for medical attention; for a fleeting moment, his eyes seemed to soften vaguely at her trembling form, almost as though he had been temporarily afflicted with sympathy.  But when she blinked, whatever it was had vanished, replaced by his usual austerity.  She had probably only imagined it.

In one swift motion, Ozai reached out and seized the beggar’s arm, twisting it back at an awkward angle until the man gave in, and then wrapped his free arm around the man’s neck, squeezing until he heard him begin to wheeze.

“Please!  Don’t hurt me!” he begged through constricted rasps.  “Let me go free and you’ll never see the likes of me again.”

Ozai stood silent for a moment while the man squirmed and gasped like a rat in the coils of a boa constrictor.  “You want me to let you go free?”

“Yes, that’s all I ask.”

He seemed to consider the request briefly, letting him struggle within his grasp just a little longer before responding.  “Very well.”  Ozai began dragging him toward the door, strengthening his hold on him as he hauled the man’s flailing body into the hull.

“Wait.  Wait!” the beggar pleaded.  “What are you –  Where are you taking me?”  His frantic pleas became fainter and more muffled as they disappeared from her view and Ozai dragged him onto the deck above.  “No!  Please, don’t!” she heard him cry just before he released a throaty yelp and a loud splash sounded from beside the ship.  _He couldn’t have_ , she thought.

Silence.  The man’s cries had suddenly stopped.  Katara tried not to think about what Ozai might have done to him, but she could not help feeling grateful.  To _him_.  Ozai.  If it had not been for him, she would have undoubtedly been raped today, and possibly murdered.  That despicable man she loathed so much had just saved her life.

 _That doesn’t change anything_ , a voice in her head spoke out. _It doesn’t mean there’s anything good in him._

It was true, it did not necessarily change anything.  She knew he needed her alive and unharmed, simple as that.  The idealist in her wanted to make more of it, but she knew she had to accept it for what it was.  _Not every cloud has a silver lining_.


	8. Chapter 8

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced around the center of his throne room in irregular circles.  He had been expecting a report on the progress of the two-day search nearly half an hour ago, and he was still waiting for the commander to arrive with the details.  He hoped that the delay would warrant some good news, but something inside him refused to give much credence to the notion.

“Maybe the holdup is a good sign,” Suki said as though reading his thoughts, her voice breaking the long nervous silence that had pervaded the room.  She looked at Zuko with strained optimism from where she stood at the far side of the center aisle, dwarfed by the stately marble pillars that lined its grand walkway to set it apart.  A fuming Sokka stood just behind her, shaking with fury as he glared daggers at the young Fire Lord, as though fighting to keep himself from tearing at his throat.

Zuko only responded with a low grunt, never breaking his gaze from the polished black bamboo floors as he continued his restless pacing. 

Toph stood closer, nearly arm’s length from his trajectory and held out an encouraging arm in his direction as though to slow his erratic movement.  “Suki’s right,” she said, trying her best to sound positive.   “Why don’t you sit down for a minute, take a few deep breaths before the commander gets here.  You’re starting to make everyone kinda anxious.”

Majestic flames arose from behind the throne and extended along the far wall of the room, sending elongated shadows dancing off the pillars across the floor. Aang stood halfway in the shadows of a far pillar, silent, leaning cross-armed against the cold hard marble and following Zuko’s course with a contemptuous glower. 

“He can’t,” Aang muttered in a scornful tone.  “His guilty conscience won’t let him sit still.”

Zuko wanted to pay no heed to the Avatar’s derisive comment, but against his better judgment he found himself lashing out in response.  “ _My_ guilty conscience?  _You’re_ the one who should be wallowing in guilt; you had a chance to track them down before they got too far, and you didn’t even try.”

“How _dare_ you blame Aang for failing to clean up _your_ mess!” Sokka finally erupted from the other side of the room.  “This whole thing is all your fault!  Because of you, my baby sister’s life is in critical danger!”

“Sokka.”  Suki tried to keep her voice calm and composed to temper her boyfriend’s fueling anger.  “Don’t worry, we’ll–”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Sokka growled dangerously.  “I’m gonna kill you, Zuko!”  He sprung forward, the fingers of his hands splayed out and arched threateningly like the deadly claws of an elephant tiger.  Suki pushed back into him, struggling to hold him from reaching his target.

“Agh!  Sokka, stop this!”  But her cries only seemed to feed his frenzy and suddenly he broke through her warrior’s hold on him to storm toward the firebender.

Zuko dodged to the side just in time to avoid the attack as Sokka skidded past him, turning around and preparing to charge back.  Zuko positioned himself into a defensive stance, preparing to absorb the approaching attack, when a loud knock at the chamber’s doors reverberated throughout the room.  Sokka’s focus and momentum waned slightly from the unexpected interruption and he collided into the young Fire Lord just as a venerable man dressed in Fire Nation military garb was escorted through the doors.

The man shifted uncomfortably as he studied the tense scene before him.  “Uh, is everything all right, my lord?  Perhaps I should come back another time.”  He shrunk bank, poised to exit at a moment’s notice.

 “No!” Zuko responded, shoving Sokka off of him forcefully and glaring a warning at him before turning his attention to the man.  He cleared his throat and smoothed his robe, attempting to compose himself before continuing.  “You’re late, Commander.”

“Fire Lord Zuko,” he bowed.  “Avatar Aang,” he nodded respectfully toward Aang who was emerging from his place against the pillar toward the rest of the group.  “My deepest apologies for–”

“Did you find them?” Zuko brusquely cut in.  “My father and Katara, where are they?”

The commander hesitated briefly, appearing to gather his thought before giving his response.  “I’m sorry, my lord.  My men were unable to locate the ship you described.   We had teams searching in every direction, but I’m afraid the storm gave them too great a head start; the odds of catching up to him were against us.”

“No,” Zuko groaned in despair, rubbing his fingers across his brows, his other arm hugging his chest.

“But I do have word for you from the Earth King and the Chiefs of the Water Tribes.  They have received your alert and will be issuing warrants for the arrest along with a reward for former Fire Lord Ozai and a reward for the safe return of Miss Katara, as you requested.  They will also issue nation-wide alerts warning citizens to be on the lookout for the two of them.  They’re doing all they can, sir.”

“I understand.”  He swallowed hard in an attempt to stifle the anguish on his face.  “Thank you, Commander.”

“I have this for you as well, my lord,” he said, holding out a rolled up piece of paper.  “It’s sealed with the mark of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe.”

Zuko rolled open the letter and quickly skimmed its contents.   “Chief Hakoda is bringing a fleet of men here to help with the search.  He should be here in a couple more days.  He says he greatly fears for the safety of his daughter and will go to any lengths to find her before anything dire happens.”

“Well if there’s anyone you want on your side in the search for Katara,” Toph chimed in, “it’s the Daddy-O.  Ozai better hope _he_ never catches up to him.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Zuko said, turning back to the man.  “I will be sending further orders shortly.”  He nodded his permission to leave.  The man bowed deeply and then turned on his heel and made his way out through the massive doors.

“If my dad’s coming here, then at least there’s some hope for Katara after all,” Sokka muttered sullenly, shooting a fleeting glare at Zuko before casting his eyes to the ground.  “But it’s been almost three days and no one’s caught sight of them.  They could literally be anywhere right now and the more time we lose, the lesser chance there is that Katara will be…”  He stopped short, unable to finish the dreadful thought.  “Well, we just better hope we find them soon.”

Zuko had been thinking the same thing.  Everyone had been thinking it.  With every passing moment in Ozai’s clutches, the chances of finding Katara alive were potentially withering away.  The more distance Ozai was able to put between them, the more critical the situation became.  He knew they could not afford to wait until Hakoda reached them before taking further action.  “You’re right.  We need to extend the margins of our search now.  I’ll send multiple fleets of soldiers to scour areas of every nation, including the Water Tribes.  It would be so typical of my father to go someplace hostile and unexpected like that.  We’ll leave no stone unturned.”

Zuko paused in thought for a moment before straightening up and glancing around at his friends with an air of fierce determination.  “And I think we have a better chance of finding them if the five of us split up.  Aang, you and Toph should take Appa now to cover the eastern Earth Kingdom.  It’s the furthest distance but you’ll make the best time traveling there with Appa.  Be on the lookout for any ships matching the one Ozai’s taken on the way.  Then once Sokka’s dad arrives, the rest of us will head out with him toward the western Earth Kingdom.  Is everyone okay with that?”

The four friends remained silent but nodded vaguely.  “Then it’s settled.  I’ll give the orders and we’ll head out just as soon as Sokka’s dad get’s here.  Until then, we’ll keep our eyes and ears open but we should try to get some rest; we’re definitely gonna need it.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The remainder of the day progressed especially quietly, but Katara still felt like she was screaming inside.  The earlier skirmish had left her shaken and she had several scratches on her arms from where the man had tried to restrain her.  Her dress had been torn from the shoulder of her left sleeve down to her armpit, revealing the top of her bindings beneath.  Even if she had the use of her hands, she had no way to mend the dress and nothing to wear over it.  It all could have been worse, she kept reminding herself.  Not that her current circumstance was a high bar of comparison…

The fragment of sunlight she delighted in had finally dwindled and vanished, snuffed out by the newly rising moon.  Katara’s stomach was grumbling and aching from want of food.  It was past time for her evening meal and she was growing weary with hunger.  Had they forgotten?  Just as she had begun to resign herself to waiting until morning to eat, she heard the thud of footsteps descending into the hull. 

A key turned in the lock and the door groaned open.  Katara was surprised to see not Jiao but Ozai step into the room, carrying in his hands the familiar goblet and chunk of bread.  She was fairly certain that after this she would be content with never eating bread again in her life.  Assuming there would be an “after this.”  The thought made her spirits sink slightly.

Ozai walked over to Katara and set her meal down as he had before.  “Waste not,” he said with a subtle sneer as he turned his back and headed for the door.  From the way he behaved, it would have seemed as though nothing unusual had transpired earlier. 

A rising urge to bring up the incident was growing ever stronger inside her, fueled by his insufferably cavalier manner, and as he reached the exit with clearly no intention of addressing it, she found herself blurting out, “What did you do to that man?”

Ozai stopped just before the door but did not turn around.  “That’s none of your concern.”  He paused for a moment longer and then continued to step through the doorway.

“Thank you.”  Horrified, the words spewed out of her mouth before she had even had time to think.  “For what you did,” she said more quietly, somewhat embarrassed.  “You saved my life.”

Ozai turned around to face her now with a stony expression.  “Don’t read into it, girl,” he grumbled.  “My actions were not for your sake.  You’re simply no good to me if you’re dead or injured.”

His words cut into her like a cold steel blade; she was unable to hide the hurt and anger that darted across her face.  It was not so much that Ozai had said it, but more what he said.  She had come to expect such a demeanor from him, but she had hoped that somehow, somewhere deep inside he had acted on her account and not on his own selfish impulse.  _Stupid_ , she scolded herself.  Ozai appeared unaffected by her obvious offense, his stone-cold amber gaze piercing into her a few moments longer before disappearing behind the door as he locked her in solitude once again.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara tried to sleep, yearning to put the stress of the day from her mind, but her joints and muscles had withstood all they could and were now protesting with pulses of aching, burning pain.  She had tried sprawling out, sitting up, and a number of positions in between but was unable to find an arrangement her body could agree on.  The only thing that seemed to relieve her discomfort was keeping herself in constant, slow movement, so she resolved to ambling in circles around the room and trying to keep her mind from wandering too close to the edge of dismay.  She was certain that Zuko had people out looking for her.  Surely it was only a matter of time before they caught up to her.  _Everything is going to be fine_ , she kept chanting to herself; perhaps reciting the words over and over would make them true…

Suddenly without warning a dreadful grating and splintering sound shattered the silence around her.  Before she had time to think, Katara’s body was lurched forward as the ship quaked violently, reeling from the jolt.  With her hands bound she was unable to fight the momentum and her body was forcefully slammed against the wall as her head made contact with a loud _thwack_.  The room began to spin; Katara staggered under the uneven rocking of the ship and darkness began creeping in on her.  Her balance finally gave out and she stumbled to her knees, breathing sharply and clenching her eyes shut to stop the spinning.  She wished she could bring her bound hands in front of her and up to cradle her aching head.   That was when she noticed a slight give in the bindings around her wrists.  Despite the pain, she opened her eyes and looked behind her to see that the force of the impact had caused the rope to loosen a bit.  With a little maneuvering, she could probably wiggle her hands free.  Without hesitation she began to twist and angle her wrists while shimmying the rope down little by little.  The twining was rough and jagged, grating against her skin and leaving several small splinters in its wake, causing tears of pain to sting her eyes.

Suddenly another more threatening splintering sound pierced her focus followed by a deep, ominous groaning and creaking from the side of the ship.  Katara’s eyes widened as she realized the severity of the situation.  The ship had hit something, and not a small something judging from the massive jolt, and it was losing the battle.  From the way it sounded, the weakening sideboards would not hold out much longer.

Katara quickly resumed her struggle with the rope, picking up the pace and gritting her teeth through the pain, and before long she had successfully cast the bindings from her wrists.  She heaved a sigh of relief and gingerly raised her hands up to examine her raw skin when a fissure appeared in the planks of the wall next to her, and then another, and another.  And then all at once the sideboards ruptured with a deafening burst, splintering into a thousands pieces as a torrent of water surged violently into the space below deck, enveloping Katara in a flood of icy pins and needles.  She struggled against the pummeling waves and managed to scramble to her feet, pushing against the surging rapids.  The wooden door to her room was dangling from its hinges, knocked out by the force of the blow.

As quickly as she could, she bent a path in the rising water filling the space and raced out into the main hull and up the steps onto the deck.  The ship was tilting sharply to the right and she could see that a good portion of the vessel was already below water and sinking quickly.  She hastily scanned the deck for Ozai and Jiao, straining into the darkness, but she saw no sign of them anywhere.  Her heart leapt at the realization that she was suddenly within reach of escape.  If she could just make it to land, she could flee to safety.

The night sky above was crystal clear and harbored a nearly full moon, lending just enough of its pale light to make out the silhouette of a coastline in the distance.  It would be a tiresome swim but with the help of her bending she could make it.

The ship shuddered and groaned once again and the ominous sound drew Katara’s attention to several dark shapes protruding from the water and gleaming in the moonlight.  _Rocks_.  There were several dark jagged rocks jutting just above the surface of the water, nearly invisible between the black ocean and the midnight sky.  The rock that had torn the ship apart was massive but surreptitious in the way it masked itself in the shadow of night.  She had only now noticed it.

The ship was now more than halfway swallowed by the sea.  She needed to find a safe way down and get to land quickly.  She decided she could carefully climb down on to the rocks at the side of the ship which would give her a safe starting-off point.  As she raked her eyes along its surface, trying to determine the best route down, an indistinct figure strewn in a heap at one end caught her eye.  She realized suddenly that it was a man.  _Ozai_.  She studied him for a moment and could see that he was not moving, but she was just able to make out the fact that he was still breathing.

Her first instinct was to quickly dive into the water at the furthest point from him and swim as fast as she could to safety.  But despite her inclination, something inside her stayed her steps.  She glanced back over at Ozai’s motionless form.

He was a terrible man; there was no disputing that.  But he had saved her life that morning.  Even though he claimed it was for his own purposes, if he had not stepped in she may not have been standing here right now.  She technically owed him her life.  That did not mean there was anything good in him, but did the opposite mean he was necessarily evil?

 _Good and evil.  Is it really that concrete?_ she wondered. _Certainly there are some gray areas.  Good people are capable of doing bad things.  But are indisputably bad people, such as Ozai, capable of doing good things?_ She began to doubt it and contemplated just leaving the man where he lied.  The world would be better off without him anyway. 

 _But he’s still a human being_.  Aang’s words echoed through her head and she cursed her conscience.  All human beings, whether defined as good or evil, are capable of doing good things.  They are capable of making that choice.  Perhaps his actions that morning provided a glimpse into that possibility.  She could not just leave him on that rock to die when he deserved the same chance as every other human being, no matter what he had done. 

The ship was almost fully engulfed by the fathomless ocean now.  She would need to make her move immediately if she wanted to reach Ozai easily.  At last she made her way to the bow of the ship and began climbing down what was left of it.  Hanging on to the side, she anchored her foot against the ship and jumped down on to the rocks below, nearly losing her footing on the slick, uneven surface.  Cautiously she crept over to the unconscious man and studied him for a moment.  He was lying on his side, his arm at an awkward angle beneath him and his breathing was shallow.  She touched him lightly, drawing back in anticipation of a reaction; receiving no response, she grabbed his arm and turned him onto his back.  He had a large gash in the upper left corner of his head where it had collided with a sharp point on the rock, but luckily the bleeding had slowed and was coming to a stop.  She could heal it once they reached shore; until then she would need to preserve all the energy she could in order to get there.

Katara heaved the man up to a sitting position and draped his arm around her shoulder.  She would need to utilize her bending if she was going to swim both him and herself all the way to shore.  _I can’t believe I’m doing this_ , she thought as she jumped into the icy water.  He was heavier than she had expected, although not unbearable once in the water.  She began to focus what energy she could spare on bending a wave behind them to help them along when she felt a sudden tugging on her foot.

She was pulled down slightly, sputtering water out of her mouth and trying to keep Ozai’s head from falling below the surface, looking around nervously.  Suddenly something grasped her leg, yanking her down beneath the surface.  She kicked and squirmed, trying to free herself.  She struggled to the surface and fought to catch her breath before being dragged back under when the entity scrambled up to wrap around her neck and shoulders, flailing desperately.  In the commotion, she lost hold of Ozai, watching helplessly as he drifted slowly away toward the black abyss below her. 

All at once she realized that the grasp around her was the arms of a man.  She could not see his face behind her, but she was certain it was Jiao.  He must have lost consciousness when he fell overboard and latched on to her in a desperate attempt to reach the surface when he came to.  But amidst his frantic floundering, she was being held under water and sinking under his weight.

With all her might she bent a whip from the water and lashed it out behind her, striking the man just hard enough to force him off of her, and then dived down to retrieve Ozai, dragging him back to the surface.  Jiao was beginning to break from his hysteria but still continued to tread the surface frantically, struggling to stay afloat amidst his dying energy.  How would she ever make it ashore with two grown men to haul with her?  She would have to use the last bit of her energy to create and sustain a wave that would carry them all if not most of the way; it was the only way they could close the distance before they all succumbed to exhaustion.

Summoning what was left of her strength and focus, Katara bent the water around them into a strong wave.  The water surged from underneath them, carrying them forcefully toward the shore.  Just as they were about to crash onto the rocky land, Katara eased back the water and they rolled onto the shore, suffering only a few minor scrapes.  Katara landed halfway on top of Ozai’s chest, Jiao landed a few feet away.

Gasping and panting from the exertion, Katara tried to lift herself up but her flimsy arms could scarcely support her and she crashed back down onto him.  As she lied with her head on Ozai’s chest, trying to gather the energy for another attempt, she became aware that his chest remained unnaturally still.  _He’s not breathing_ , she realized.  With one last heave, she finally succeeded in sitting up and brought her hands to rest on his chest.  Closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, she drew her hands up his chest toward his neck, bending a stream of water out through his mouth.  She waited for the usual signs of life to return, but he remained lifeless.  She rested her ear against his chest again.  Still nothing.

 _Either the spirits really want him to die or they are trying to see how far I’ll take this “everyone deserves a chance” concept_ , she thought.  Katara looked at the unconscious man, trying to scrounge up any other option than the only obvious one that came to her.  She had seen mouth-to-mouth resuscitation done before in the Southern Water Tribe but had never had to do it herself.  And it was certainly the last thing she wanted to try right now.  On _him_. 

But she knew time was running out.  She could not let him die after going to this much trouble to save him.  She would do her part and let the spirits deal with his fate later on if they allowed him to live.  At least her conscience would be clear.

Squinting her eyes shut and taking a deep breath in, she lowered her face down slowly toward his.  Grimacing, she was within inches of making contact with his lips when he suddenly coughed into her face, spewing droplets of water onto her cheeks.  Katara was so startled that she jumped up to her knees and stumbled backward from the force.

After catching his breath, Ozai only stared at her with a grim, somewhat thwarted expression.  He said nothing, only focusing his eyes away from her with the scowl she had come to know so well.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a low, debased grumble, keeping his eyes turned aside.

“Saving your life, that’s what.”  She could hardly fathom how anyone could be so ungrateful under the circumstances.  “A simple thank you would have sufficed.” 

“You’re wasting your time.  I would have been fine,” he snapped as he slowly at up.  “And if you think that saving me will somehow cause me to miraculously see the light and set you free, you are mistaken.”

That was it.  She refused to sit back and take any more of his unappreciative slander.  “First of all, you _wouldn’t_ have been fine,” her tone was dangerous, but right now she did not care.  “I just bent several pints of water out of your lungs, you were essentially drowning.  You would’ve died if I hadn’t helped you.  Which leads me to my second point, and that is you owe me my freedom for saving your life.  You wouldn’t even be conscious right now if it weren’t for me.” 

“Hmm, seeing as how I saved _your_ life back on the ship, I’d say that merely evens the score.  Therefore, I owe you nothing.”  He rose to his feet finally as Jiao staggered over to them.

“Are you all right, sir?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“Yes, I’m fine.”  Ozai glanced back over at Katara who was lifting herself off of the ground as well.  “Everything goes forward as planned, girl, and the same rules apply as before.  Don’t cause trouble, don’t get in my way, and don’t cross me or I will make you truly sorry.”

With that he turned and began advancing inland toward a dense line of trees.  “Come.  We’ll need to find a place to rest for the night.” 


	9. Chapter 9

Ozai awoke as the sun began peeking over the horizon.  The morning haze had not yet cleared and the moisture in the air clung to his skin like a cold, wet shroud.  Jiao still lay asleep on a dank bed of rotting timber and fallen leaves, snoring softly while the waterbender was curled into the crook of a close by tree.  With a little perseverance he had managed to get a small fire burning in between them, inwardly cursing and damning the Avatar for stealing his bending.  He had not built a fire with his bare hands in as long as he could remember and it showed.

He glanced down at the Fire Nation guard uniform he still wore.  Everything he had planned so carefully to bring with them had been lost in the wreckage.  The food, the tools and supplies, and the Earth Kingdom clothes Jiao had obtained for the three of them to change into.  He cursed under his breath.  The wreck had set them off course and put them behind where they needed to be, at least a hundred miles from their destination, he guessed.  What advantages the storm had imparted, the wreck had instantly taken away.  His efforts to gain ground and scale the Earth Kingdom’s northern coast before its people were alerted had been thwarted.  Now he would be forced to cross the expansive country on foot; the chances of them slipping under the noses of the guards who were now certainly raking the earth to find him would be grim.  And to top it off they were all wearing the most identifiable clothing possible.  At least he still had the cloak Jiao had given him, but until they came across a market to replenish their gear and garner more inconspicuous attire, he would need to take extra precautions while advancing forward.

He quickly shed his cloak and pulled off his crimson shoulder plate armor, throwing it to the side, leaving him in the close-fitting dark grey shirt underneath and matching pants that hugged his waist and flowed outward until they tucked into the top of his black boots around his upper calf muscles.  He removed the scarlet sash that draped from his waist and was about to discard it as well when he thought better of it.  It might come in handy later.  He tied it in a haphazard knot around his waist and replaced the cloak over his shoulders.

It was then that he noticed, not for the first time, that the ends of his hair and beard were damaged and fraying from the lack of attention during his years in prison.  They had grown unmanageably long and matted.  It was a disgrace for a man such as him to appear anywhere near as unkempt and lowly as that miserable fool he had slain and thrown overboard.  Ozai reached into his boot and pulled out the dagger he kept concealed inside it.  At least one thing had not been lost in the wreck.  He grasped the tattered ends of his hair in one hand and brought the dagger up to just below his shoulders.  He had filed the blade to a dangerously sharp edge before the journey.  With one swipe, he lopped off several inches of his hair and followed suit with the end of his beard, trimming it down to its rightful length.

A soft rustling stirred to Ozai’s left as Jiao roused from his slumber and trudged over to him.  He was about to sit and huddle close to the fire to shake off the cool of the morning when Ozai’s voice made him halt.

“As long as you’re awake,” he spoke in a low murmur, “make yourself useful and gather some food for us to eat before we head out.”  Ozai kept his gaze fixed on the fire, never even bothering to make eye contact as he addressed him.

Jiao hesitated for a brief moment, appearing somewhat disgruntled, and then slogged off in search of some form of sustenance.

Ozai listened as Jiao’s shuffling footsteps grew fainter behind him, staring intently into the flames licking up from the ground before him.  He only broke his gaze away once to cast a cursory glance at the waterbender before directing his eyes back down again.  All of his thoughts now shifted to the girl sleeping against the tree a few feet away.  Why had she done it?  It defied all logic.  She had had a chance to escape and instead she had chosen to bring him to safety.  No, she had not saved his life.  His pride refused to fully admit even to himself that he had needed saving, that his existence could be so easily extinguished. 

His muscles tensed as the ordeal of last night darted through his mind unwelcome.  The morning offered up to him unsolicited a newfound clarity.  For a brief moment, he could taste the bitterness of his mortality and it made him shudder.  Try as he might, no amount of denial could stifle the troublesome reality of what might have happened to him if she had not intervened.  But why had she done it?

All of a sudden, a new thought revealed itself to him.   She was sensitive, naïve, impressionable.  Regardless of who he was, she had saved him as an act of reciprocation; despite what he had told her, she must still believe in some small way that he had save her from that lecherous beggar for her sake, and had felt conflicted about leaving him to die.  She probably believed, foolishly, that no man was beyond redemption, not even himself.

A new plan began forming itself in his mind as he remained transfixed on the flickering flames before him.  Her relationship with the Avatar was already shaky and slowly unraveling, and she was to blame.  With guilt likely nagging at her, it would not take much for her to begin to believe he had abandoned her to her fate.  All he needed to do was plant the seeds, and with a little nurturing it would grow.

And perhaps if he could bring her to believe that he was a different man than the one she had been taught to hate, he could replace her trust in the Avatar with a newfound trust in himself.  It would be a slow and difficult process, but not unfeasible.  Of course, her scandalous relationship with his son could complicate his mind games.  He would serve as a remaining source of her hope and might make her less likely to succumb to his manipulation.  But as her trust in the Avatar weakened, so he surmised would her hope in his son.  All he needed was for her to trust him just long enough to carry out his plan.  She would not only be the perfect pawn in his game but he would hardly have to do any of the work himself.  She would inadvertently bring about the demise of that pathetic little boy Avatar and the rise of the supreme Phoenix King.

A troubled sigh a few feet ahead lifted him from his thoughts.  Glancing up, he saw the girl finally stirring, trying to rub the sleep out of her tired eyes.  The faintest hint of a malicious smile turned up his lips.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The first thing Katara saw upon waking was Ozai’s piercing gaze fixed directly on her.  She flinched slightly at the unexpected sight and then shot him a look of sheer loathing laced with a hint of apprehension.  His appearance had been altered slightly; his hair and beard had been trimmed and tidied up, transforming him from the weathered mess he had been before to the statelier man she now saw sitting before her.

“Why are you staring at me?” she snapped, her voice wavering slightly with uneasiness.

“That’s rather presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”  His voice sounded monotone and almost bored, unaffected by her reaction to him.  “I never expected a Water Tribe peasant to come with such a gratuitous ego.”

Katara ground her teeth at the insult.  Toying with her again.  So typical.  She wanted to lash out against his snide comment but decided not to give him the pleasure of a reaction and bit her tongue instead.   Ozai simply returned his gaze to the fire that separated them, appearing indifferent to her refusal to engage him, falling back into the solitude of his own thoughts and ignoring her as though she had suddenly ceased to exist. 

His mood was so unpredictable it made her want to scream.  One moment he was intense and dangerous, and the next he acted aloof and impassive.  It was if her presence was suddenly of no consequence to him.  She had never seen someone with such a capricious disposition.  Even Zuko was not this temperamental, although she was beginning to see where he got it from.

Trying to shake off her frustration, she looked around to examine their makeshift campsite.  They had not advanced far into the forest; she could almost make out the rocky coastline a short distance away through the lightly populated forest. The sun was beginning to burn away the morning haze, although dew still clung resolutely to the undergrowth of the forest, largely shielded from the sun’s rays by the perforated canopy overhead.

Upon further inspection of her surroundings, she realized that the other man, whose name she was still unsure of, was missing.  She was about to break the silence to ask where he had gone when she saw the man emerging through the woods on her left.  In one hand he was carrying what looked like vines of different types of berries, and dangling from the other were two lifeless gophersquirrels.  Katara could hardly watch as the adorable creatures’ bodies swung suspended in the air by their tails clutched in the man’s pitiless grip.  She was far from unaccustomed to hunting animals for food, but Sokka had always skinned and cleaned them before giving them to her to cook.  She rarely ever had to see the animals in their natural, recognizable forms and the scene caused a small knot to form in her stomach.

Ozai looked over his shoulder at the approaching man who held out his catch in a gesture of success.  Ozai only remained stone-faced and silent as the man finally arrived beside them.

“I came across some berries not too far away.  Looks like this area’s full of them.  And I was fortunate enough to catch these little devils.  We can skewer them and roast them over the –”

“Do it then and stop wasting time,” Ozai interrupted with the same monotone voice as before.  “We need to be on our way before the morning has withered away.”

The man appeared somewhat hurt by his master’s curtness but nodded respectfully.  “Yes, my lord,” he assented, and then began busying himself with the meal’s preparations.  Katara kept her eyes occupied elsewhere as he cleaned and skewered the animals and began roasting them over the fire.

Before long they had all eaten, although as before, Katara’s portion had been decidedly more meager.  As they put out the dwindling fire and began making their way deeper into the forest, Katara realized that Ozai had not bothered to bind her hands this time.  She was certain he would not have simply forgotten; it must have been a conscious decision on his part. 

Was it some of kind of trick?  He might be waiting for her to try to escape and then strike back even harsher to make a point of his power.  It was not beyond him, but she doubted that was his intention. 

Perhaps he felt that she would be able to keep up better and pull her weight in case of trouble if he left her hands unbound.  But surely he would have considered that she might try to escape if they ran into trouble. 

Or perhaps it was actually a small gesture of trust on his part, seeing as how she could have let him drown.  Maybe he felt that she had earned at least that much and was testing the waters with her now.  Still, she would have preferred to receive some tangible expression of gratitude.  But this was probably the best she was going to get, and she was not about to object.  Her tender wrists desperately needed the break.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai knew it was risky leaving the girl’s hands unbound.  But by doing so, he would be planting the very first seeds of trust in her subconscious.  He was no stranger to the complex inner workings of the human mind; he was a master at manipulating the human psyche.  Ozai knew that any act of non-hostility from her captor would translate as an act of kindness in her prisoner mindset.  And he was fairly certain that the unexpected act would likely catch her off guard and temporarily offset the chances of her using it against him.

Still, he would be careful not to underestimate her.  He knew more of the waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe than he let on.  He knew her to be the very one who had single-handedly taken down the firebending prodigy that had been his daughter.  Azula had been nearly undefeatable; in a fair fight with her, even he might have been given a run for his money.  And yet this water peasant had brought about the downfall of his only worthy successor.

As greatly as he despised the girl for it, even he could not deny that such a feat could not be acknowledged without garnering admiration.  As much as he hated to admit it, a miniscule part of him grudgingly held a morsel of respect for her because of it. 

But even so, she was still weak and naïve.  She had held her enemy’s life in her hands yet had refused to extinguish it.  And it was that very naivety that would serve to benefit him in the end.  The plan had been set in motion.  The seeds were being planted.  He only needed to wait as the roots began to grow and take hold and then soon, very soon, he would take back a hundred fold all that had been stolen from him.  And he would do to the Avatar what he had done to him: he would strip him of all that he is and all that he loves. 

Starting with his precious little waterbender.


	10. Chapter 10

The heat of the summer seemed to have been swept away by the prior storm. What had seemed like a temporary cold front was looking more and more like the early onset of autumn.  Of course, the climate near the northern coast of the Earth Kingdom was naturally cooler, but such an early autumn would be unusual even for this area.  The daytime was still mildly warm and pleasant, but Katara had already spotted several trees that had traded in their summer green for the brilliant hues of fall.   She wondered how much farther they were from their destination and whether they would be able to make it there before the cold weather took over.

The three of them had started out walking on a narrow, nearly imperceptible path that Katara was not sure was even a path at all leading into the increasingly dense woods, but she figured it was better to follow it and assume it led somewhere than risk walking in circles and becoming disoriented.  They proceeded in single file, Jiao having taken the lead and Ozai trailing in close-quarters behind Katara, who was sandwiched in the center.  The farther they advanced into the forest, the more Katara felt engulfed by its essence.  The smells of rotting leaves and earthy fungus, the tickle of a spider web across her face now and then, the whine of a mosquito in her ear.  It had been years since she had been this deep inside a forest, and all the sights and smells brought memories crashing back to her of the days spent traveling with her friends when things were simpler.  It seemed so funny now, to look back on those days as simpler when they had seemed so challenging and precarious at the time.

They trudged on relentlessly throughout the day and into the evening until Katara’s legs ached and burned, stopping only a couple of times to eat what they could and replenish their energy.  The indistinct path they had been following was finally showing subtle signs of wear as the sun began its evening descent, which Katara took as a promising sign; they must be getting closer to civilization.

As though reading her thoughts, Ozai’s voice rung out from behind her.  “Jiao, it shouldn’t be much longer before we reach a town of some sort, but we won’t arrive there before nightfall.  We’ll need to find a place to camp for the night.”

 _Jiao.  That’s the man’s name_ , she thought to herself.

“Yes, my lord,” he replied over his shoulder.

They passed by many places at which Katara would have been more than happy to rest her weary legs for the night.  She could see nothing wrong with any of the surrounding areas, but still they pressed onward.  Finally, just as twilight had spread its dusky shroud over the forest, Jiao stopped and turned to Ozai who gave a curt nod of approval.

Their place of refuge for the night was nothing more than a small barren clearing peppered with patchy, dried-out undergrowth in the center of a cluster of broad, towering trees.  One tree had met an early demise and lay fallen across the clearing, its roots appearing to have rotted out from the inside.

With no further hesitation, Jiao began gathering firewood from nearby while Ozai cleared a small circle on the forest floor, kicking away debris with his foot to expose the barren earth underneath.  Jiao soon returned with a pile of dried-up twigs and branches and dropped them onto the clearing that Ozai had created.  All of this transpired without the exchange of a single word and the silence was making her feel awkward.  She was not sure if she should do something or stay put, so she simply stood there watching them, one arm across her stomach and clutching her other arm in an involuntary gesture of unease.  She heard Jiao mumble something about food and walk off, disappearing into the shadows of the trees, leaving her alone in the awkward silence with Ozai.

Katara shifted slightly on her feet as she watched Ozai pull out his dagger and begin striking it against a small rock and a piece of dried out tree bark.  A few small sparks began to fly up as the two objects collided with each other.  Katara had seen this technique done many times in the water tribes, with a piece of old cloth instead of tree bark.  Her people made it seem so effortless that she found it somewhat amusing how much Ozai seemed to be struggling to make a fire.  _How ironic_ , she thought.

“Are you going to stand there being utterly useless?” Ozai snapped, as though he could hear her critical thoughts.  “Or are you going to make yourself useful and gather some rocks for around the fire pit?”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to do anything,” she huffed in her defense, then grumbling, “I’m not a mind-reader.”  Katara started ambling around the campsite picking up small rocks.  In reality, she was grateful to have something to occupy her for the moment.  She had no desire to be alone with Ozai any longer than she had to.

“And you didn’t have to say it like that,” she continued under her breath, desperate for something to fill the silence.  “A simple, ‘Hey, Katara, would you mind bringing me some rocks?’ would have sufficed.”

“What are you mumbling about, waterbender?”

She paused and let out an inaudible sigh.  “I have a name, you know.  And it’s not waterbender.  It’s Katara.”

“Waterbender will do just fine.”  A large spark flew up and landed on the tree bark in Ozai’s hand and started to smolder slowly.  Within moments, it finally ignited into a very small but satisfying flame as Ozai carefully rested it down onto the bundle of kindling.

Katara scrounged up just enough rocks to surround the small fire, trying not to drop them as she trudged awkwardly back to where Ozai was now sitting on the body of the fallen tree, basking in the glow of the modest but pleasing campfire.  After carefully placing the rocks around the perimeter of the fire pit, she slumped down onto the tree as well, keeping a safe distance between herself and the former Fire Lord, and heaved a heavy sigh as her weary legs reveled in the relief.

As though an affront to the fire’s brightness, the darkness of the forest seemed to have suddenly closed in on them like an all-encompassing black void, making the silence that had befallen them once again seem heavier and more oppressive.  His tacit demeanor made her feel vulnerable, like she was at a disadvantage somehow; she could not help imagining all the horrendous schemes that might be swarming around in his head and that she would never know of them before it was too late.  In an effort to make herself feel less helpless and dominate the one thing she did have control of, she broke the silence with the first thought that came to her mind.

 “You still haven’t explained to me why it is you need me,” she said, almost in a whisper.  “I think I’m at least entitled to know that much.”

His face was illuminated by the soft glow of the fire as he watched the sparks skitter up from the flames.  Without turning toward her, he answered, “As I told you before, waterbender, it’s none of your concern.” 

“It _is_ my concern,” she shot back, her voice taking on a risky tone.  “It involves _me_.”  She paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before continuing.  “And whatever it is, you’re not going to get away with it.  The Avatar will –”

“–What?” he cut her off, finally turning to her.  “Come soaring gallantly to your rescue and stop me in my tracks?”  The corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk.  “Perhaps what you should be concerned about is whether the Avatar is coming for you at all.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed, though her voice wavered with a hint of hesitancy that she did not understand.  “You don’t know Aang at all.  If you did, you’d know that he would never turn his back on a friend.”

“A friend?  And you believe he still holds you at such a stature?  You, his only love, were not only unfaithful – you were unfaithful with one of his closest friends.  He was doubly betrayed.  Such infidelity cannot be so easily forgiven nor forgotten.  And yet you trust him with your life?”  He chuckled mockingly, shaking his head and turning back toward the fire.  “Foolish girl.”

Katara winced and averted her eyes away in a scowl.  His words stung her deeply; she hated to admit that what he said was painfully true.  “What would _you_ know about love?” she grumbled, shifting her glare back to him, anxious to transfer the focus from her own misdeeds.  “You’ve never loved anyone, have you?  All you’re capable of feeling is hate and anger, and cultivating that hate into oppression and destruction on any people who think differently from you or get in the way of your twisted agenda.”

He scoffed, his scornful laugh piercing the stillness around them.  “And I suppose that’s just what you’ve been taught to believe, like a good little girl.  Tell me, while they spoon-fed you everything you think you know about me, did you ever once stop to question whether there might be more to the story than they divulged?  Apparently independent thinking is not something that’s encouraged in the Water Tribes.”  Ozai paused for a moment, clearly enjoying the insulted expression on her face.  “I don’t suppose they mentioned that my birth was by all accounts an accident and that my father, Azulon, treated me as such from the day I was born.  That’s why there is such a substantial age difference between my brother and me – twenty-two years to be exact.  He never wanted another child.  I persistently felt as though I needed to justify my existence to him, relentlessly struggling for my own place in the world.  They never mentioned that, did they?”

Katara was not sure she was hearing things correctly.  Was Ozai actually admitting to having been an accident?  Unwanted?  A man as proud as he would just as soon keep it a secret so as not to taint his powerful image.  It could be some kind of mind game he was playing with her.  Or could it be that it was true and that he simply desired to set the record straight in his defense?  A hundred questions whirled like a tornado through her head at once, but she was unable to formulate any kind of response and instead cast her eyes to the dry, barren earth at her feet.

“I thought not,” he went on with a snide smile.  “My father cared little more for my children, his own grandchildren, even the firebending prodigy that Azula was.  Iroh was always his favorite son, and in many ways as far as he was concerned, his only son; even in the face of Iroh losing his only heir, he refused to revoke his birthright.  He never deemed me worthy to ascend to the throne.  But without it, I would have had virtually no place in the world.  I did what I needed to do.” 

He turned back to the fire and rested his forearms on his knees, his head and shoulders slumped down ever so slightly, reminiscent of a pose Katara had seen Zuko don more than once.  But it was strange to see Ozai in such a stance; he looked bewildered and almost defeated, a stark contrast to his typical harsh demeanor.  For several moments he was silent, his amber eyes set ablaze by the glowing flames.

“As for love,” he continued finally, “I’m sure they conveniently left out that unlike most Fire Nation royalty, my marriage was not arranged.  I married for love, and banishing Ursa was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.” 

His voice sounded softer than before; almost sad.  A pang of pity and sorrow pinched at her heart as the images of a lonely, neglected childhood and a happy marriage gone wrong washed over her.  Perhaps the person he became is not entirely his fault.  Perhaps he became who he is as a result of the way he was perceived and treated by the one person he should be able to look up to most – his father. 

All at once Katara realized how uncanny a resemblance Ozai’s story bore to his own son’s.  They both struggled with personal identity issues, which were brought on by the lack of love and approval they received from their fathers.  The major difference was the paths they had chosen to take in response to their lot in life.  She thanked the Spirits that Zuko had chosen not to follow in his father’s detrimental footsteps.

That is if everything he was telling her was not a complete lie, and she was not entirely convinced that it wasn’t.  She needed to fight her natural urge to sympathize and remember who it was she was dealing with.  _He didn’t have to respond the way he did_ , she reminded herself, shaking off the pity as best she could. _He chose his own path, and he chose to banish his wife.  His love for power was greater than his love for her._

 “Even if your sob story is true,” she said, finally breaking the silence, “your disturbed childhood and dysfunctional family life hardly pardon you for all the torment and anguish you inflicted during the War –”

“The escalation of the War under my reign was my way of further justifying my existence to my deceased father as well as myself, to show just how much further I was willing to go than he ever was.  I am not asking for pardon for my actions, and neither am I apologizing for them.  I was merely trying to illustrate that there is often more than just one side to any story.”  He finally turned from the fire to look at her again, his face absent of any trace of his typical snide expression.  “To help you understand that in many ways I am not entirely the man you’ve been taught to hate.”

He spoke every word in his story with such a believable sincerity that Katara would have been no more convinced if the Spirits themselves had told her.  _What a sad existence_ , she thought.  _In his perspective, the world was never meant to have him in it._ Everything was becoming clearer.  _He turned into a horrible person and was able to commit such heinous acts without any remorse because he feels no loyalty to the world or anyone in it._  

It was certainly no excuse, she knew that.  But she could not help feeling that there was a sudden honesty, almost vulnerability, behind his story – that his words were driven by real emotion. 

He probably always favored Azula over Zuko because she was his second child.  It all made sense now.  It was a direct symbolic message to his father and older brother.  The irony though, she thought, was that by ignoring Zuko and pouring all of his attention and twisted worldview into Azula, he inadvertently paved the way for Zuko to have to grow on his own and be influenced by other people, particularly his mother and Iroh.

 “Your dress is torn.”  Ozai’s voice wrenched her out of her thoughts.  It took a moment for her to register his words before she instinctively looked down.  A deep blush rose to her cheeks as she grasped the tattered fabric that hung down from her shoulder, exposing the top of her bindings, and held it up to its rightful place.  She had completely forgotten that her dress had been torn during the tryst with that creepy old beggar.

“You can get a new dress when we reach a market,” he said as he looked away, appearing completely unfazed by her embarrassment.

Again, Katara was surprised at the civility with which he was conducting himself.  She had not expected him to care about her decency or go out of his way to extend a kind gesture.  At least for Ozai she considered it kindness.  For anyone else, it would have been common courtesy.

She was about to mutter a muddled form of a thank you when a distant frenzied rustling somewhere to her left caught her attention.  Moments later, Jiao came crashing through the shadows of the trees, keeling over next to the fire and panting for breath. 

“Some kind of damned pack animals –” he managed through gasps, “– surrounded me, tried to close in – so dark, I could barely see them before it was too late.”  He stood up slowly as he began to regain his composure, though visibly still struggling to catch his breath.  “The fire oughta keep them at bay though.”

“Probably just a pack of little coyote rabbits, you imbecile,” Ozai snapped.

Katara turned to Ozai in relief at his undaunted reaction.  He sighed heavily, his brow furrowed as he continued in his usual cool, snide manner, “Now, when you’ve finished carrying on like a fool, perhaps you can explain the apparent absence of food you were responsible for.”

“Uh… yes, sir,” he stammered, straightening up at Ozai’s harsh tone.  “I’m afraid all I managed to scrounge up was this bit of hawthorn berries.”   Jiao held out a long, leafy branch full of beautiful crimson berries and unpleasant thorns.  “It isn’t much, but we’re lucky I was able to find anything in this unfathomable darkness.  Good thing I can tell the edible plants from the inedible ones too, or we could be dining on poison tonight.”

“It’s no matter,” Ozai cut in abruptly, waving his hand as though to silence him.  “A few hours of steady travel tomorrow and we should be upon a town, which means a market.  We’ll survive.”  He cast a cursory sullen glance at Katara and then down to the ground before continuing.  “You can split my share of the berries with the girl.”

Jiao’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the unusual gesture.  “Sir?”

“I never cared for hawthorn berries.”  With no further explanation, he arose from his place on the fallen tree and sat down at the foot of a very large oak tree along the perimeter of the clearing, resting back against its robust base and crossing his arms over his chest.  “Eat and then get some rest,” he said as he lifted his chin and raised a sharp eyebrow to Katara in a poignant expression that said _I’ll be watching you_.  “We move on at sunrise.”


	11. Chapter 11

The three of them had started off at sunrise as Ozai had promised, assuming the same arrangement as the day before: Jiao in the lead, Katara in the center, and Ozai bringing up the rear to make sure that she stayed in line.  By midday, the forest had thinned out a little.  The air was less musty and beams of sunlight broke through the canopy overhead, creating shifting patterns of light across the uneven forest floor.

Ozai could not drive the previous night’s conversation from his mind.  It could not have gone more perfectly, and he had not even planned it.  Without knowing it, she was acting as a catalyst for his little game; with any luck, he would not have to do any of the work himself, and that possibility was looking more promising by the day. 

Not that what he had said had been untrue.  In fact, he was somewhat disgruntled at the unadulterated honesty that had inexplicably come over him.  His past was something he had not given much thought for years; something he preferred not to think about, much less talk about.  He could just as easily have fabricated some convenient, spur of the moment lie that would have been equally convincing and far less revealing.  Why had he been inclined to be so open with her?

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“The Earth Kingdom is just so huge,” Aang said as he slumped forward in Appa’s saddle.  “I’m not even sure where to start looking.  It’s like searching for a grain of sand in a desert.”

“Well, lucky for us, this grain of sand doesn’t exactly blend in.  We’re looking for a waterbender.  Dark skin, blue eyes – not exactly what you’d call run of the mill looks in this part of the world.  I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, but at least it improves our chances.”

Aang glowered and glanced over the edge of the saddle.   The shimmering blue waters bordering the vast continent below darted by in a glistening blur, various bits of land jutting into it like white-knuckled fists.

“That doesn’t improve the fact that anywhere we start could be the wrong place.  They might not even be in the Earth Kingdom at all.  What are the chances of us just happening to be in the right place at the right time?  Not very good if you ask me.”

“Well, I guess we should just give up then, shouldn’t we?  Let’s throw in the towel and call it quits.  ‘Sorry, Katara.  We thought about rescuing you.  We really did.  But the world’s just so big, and, you know, trying to make all those tough decisions like where to start looking for you, what to feed Appa for breakfast tomorrow, whether I should take a bath this week – they were really stressing us out.  No hard feelings.’”

“Okay, okay!” he huffed, swiping his arm across the air between them to cut her off.

“I’m just saying.  We have to start somewhere; you might as well just point to the next town or village you see and stop wasting time.  Jeeze, if I didn’t know better I’d think you didn’t really want to rescue her.” 

Aang looked away slightly.  His body seemed suddenly more tense, his jaw tight and clenching.

“You _do_ want to rescue Katara, don’t you, Twinkle Toes?”  His reluctance to dispute her light-hearted accusation was making her suspicious.  His heartbeat was quickening, she could sense it; but it seemed more out of frustration than anxiety.

He hesitated a moment longer and then his shoulders sagged as he sighed deeply.  “Of course I do.  Why do you think I’m here?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” Toph said with a derisive chuckle.  Aang opened his mouth to object but was swiftly cut off.  “Hey, wait a second!  I think we’re passing right over Gaoling, my home town.”  She sprung onto her knees and clutched the side of the saddle in excitement.

 “What?  How do you know?”

“It’s hard to describe, but the air just smells different there.”  Throwing her head back, she took a large, exaggerated whiff of the air and exhaled in a dramatic sigh.  “Yep, that’s Gaoling all right.  And I think I know just the place to start our search.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Dead branches cracked and creaked beneath her feet as Katara followed reluctantly behind Jiao, pressed onward by an unrelenting Ozai.  The clattering of dried leaves and debris as she shuffled along the sun-dappled path sent an occasional squirrel or lizard scurrying for cover.  The shortage of food and water over the last couple of days was beginning to take its toll.  Her stomach growled in persistent complaint, her mouth felt as dry as cotton, and she was beginning to feel slightly faint.  She hoped that Ozai’s prediction was correct and that they would soon see signs of civilization.

The path began to rise in a slight incline, a minor hill by most accounts but under the weight of hunger and exhaustion it was just enough to slow down their pace.  As the three of them reached the top of the slope, Katara’s head jerked up at what sounded like two faint voices coming from somewhere just beyond the rise.  She was wondering if she had only imagined it when sure enough two men came into view as they began to descend the other side of the incline.  One was tall and fit, the other stocky and muscular.  They seemed to be enjoying a light-hearted conversation, exchanging good-natured jabs at each other that ended in a hearty laugh. 

As they grew nearer to them, she realized with a rush of hopefulness that they were Earth Kingdom guards.  Behind her she heard Ozai curse under his breath.  It was too late for them to steal into the forest for cover.  Fleeing now would only look suspicious and lead to pursuit.  Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she saw him pull his hood further over his head, trying to conceal as much of his face as possible.

The stocky guard nodded a greeting to Jiao, who offered a small but courteous nod in response before averting his gaze.  Their unsuspecting eyes then fell upon Katara and the strange hooded man who followed closely behind her with his gaze fixed on the ground.  They stared quizzically at Ozai, who refused to look up at them, but their expressions appeared to stem more from curiosity than suspicion.  The tall guard cast a faint smile at Katara, but all she could muster in response was a hesitant, wide-eyed expression that she hoped look like a cry for help.  The stocky guard kept walking, oblivious to her exchange with his comrade, but the taller one hesitated for a moment before continuing on, clearly stopped by her strange expression.

The two guards passed out of Katara’s peripheral vision after casting one last questioning glance at Ozai.  Once again, help was literally within her grasp and yet out of reach.  She knew if she said anything, she would not only be putting her own life in danger but the lives of the two innocent guards as well.  Her only hope lay in the prospect that the guards must have recently come from a town and that would mean food and lots of people; perhaps someone would recognize them and come to her rescue.  Just as she had relinquished hope that the guards would put the pieces together, an indistinct murmuring sounded from behind her.  Succumbing to her curiosity, she glanced behind to see that the two men had stopped and were conversing in a secretive yet urgent manner, the taller guard gesturing toward them.  Ozai glared a warning at her and moved in closer to speed up their pace, prompting her to turn back around, when the murmuring was replaced by an authoritative shout.

“You there!  The three of you – halt!”

Katara froze and both she and Jiao instinctively turned around simultaneously; she was certain that her face spoke volumes of her nervousness but Jiao maintained a convincing air of complete nonchalance.  Ozai, however, stood his ground, refusing to turn and glaring with a pensive ferocity at the forest floor.  Katara was certain that the panic of potentially being caught must be coursing through him, but she knew enough about the former Fire Lord to know that he could channel that panic into a quick-thinking force of focused energy before his opponents ever had a chance to react.  Her gaze darted from Ozai then back to the guards who were shifting uneasily on their feet.

“I’m going to have to ask you to turn around, sir,” the taller guard commanded in a more imposing tone.  Ozai remained unresponsive, standing as fearless and unflinchingly still as a stone statue.  The scene was growing thick with tension and Katara could feel her heart begin to race.  _Please_ , she wanted to shout to them, _it’s not worth it.  If you value your lives, just keep moving_. 

An expression of sudden recognition washed over both of their faces as their eyes darted between the dark-skinned, sapphire-eyed girl and the tall hooded man with her.  She knew they had finally realized exactly who and what they had stumbled upon.  The two guards glanced at each other warily and then back to Ozai, shifting into offensive earthbending stances in response to the hooded man’s odd behavior.

“Sir, this is your last warning,” the stocky guard commanded.  “Turn around now or –!”

In one swift, sudden motion, Ozai grabbed the dagger from his boot, spun around, and sent the blade hurling end over end until it embedded itself to the hilt perfectly into the man’s chest, piercing his heart.  Katara watched in horror as he clutched the hilt of the dagger and struggled for breath, his mouth agape in a silent scream as he toppled over, the shock rendering him unconscious.  Before the fallen guard had even hit the ground, Ozai had sprung forward and was racing toward the two men.  He seized the dagger from the lifeless man’s chest and lunged at the other guard who had a mere few moments to react before narrowly dodging the attack.

The man spun out of Ozai’s aim just in time and extended his arms out chaotically in an attempt to bend the earth underneath Ozai to knock him off balance, but the attack was weakened by his stumbling to get away.  Within moments, Ozai had nimbly dodged the blow and was upon the man, thrusting the blade deep into his chest.  The guard fell to his knees gasping for air and collapsed at Ozai’s feet, his life quickly fading away.

Katara could hardly breathe as she watched the ground underneath the men’s bodies turn a dark, glossy crimson.  Ozai simply retrieved the dagger, brushed back the stray hairs that had fallen in his face and began walking back to where Katara and Jiao were still standing.  He gestured to the two of them to fall back in line.  Jiao took the lead once again, and Ozai came up behind Katara, who was still staring aghast at the two slain men.

“Move along, girl.”  He nudged her arm to get her to turn away from the scene and begin walking forward again.

Katara wished she could block out everything she had just witnessed.  She had known that Ozai was a daunting force to be reckoned with, but even without his bending he was like a one-man army perfectly capable of taking down fully-grown, highly-trained military guards using hand-to-hand combat alone.  He was more dangerous than even she had first thought. 

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

After a silent, tense trek across a few more miles, they finally reached the outskirts of a moderately sized market nestled just outside of a town that sprung up in the forest like a welcome ray of sunshine.  Instead of continuing forward, Jiao and Ozai stopped and inspected the scene cautiously.

“This is where we part ways for now, sir,” Jiao said, turning to face Ozai.  “We’ll keep in touch via messenger hawk.  I’ll make sure that you have at least a few trusted men to meet you at the designated places along the way, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

 _Part ways?_ she thought.  _I’m going to be_ alone _with Ozai?_   She was not sure she liked the sound of that.

“Thank you, Jiao.  I know you won’t fail me.”

Katara could not tell if that last part was meant as a compliment or a threat.  Knowing Ozai, she figured probably the latter.  Jiao bowed his respect and then turned heel and walked off in the opposite direction, swallowed up by the crowds.

Once Jiao had disappeared, Ozai turned his attention to Katara and took hold of her arm, drawing her into his chest.  She gasped at the sudden closeness as he surreptitiously lowered his head to her, careful not to draw attention.

“There is no sense in running,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her cheek.  “You have nowhere to go.  And I doubt I need to tell you that the consequences would not be worth it.” 

He released his hold on her and she backed away slightly.  Her face felt unusually warm and she realized in horror that she was blushing.  The awareness of that unwanted reaction only served to deepen her blush and she looked down to hide her face, desperately hoping he had not noticed. 

“Go find yourself a new dress.  Meet me back here in fifteen minutes,” he said.  “And don’t wander out of my sight.”  With that, he wandered toward the mass of booths and stalls that filled the market, leaving her on her own for the first time since he had taken her captive four days ago.  Or was it five?  She could not remember.  Not even a week, and already the days were beginning to run together.

Aang and the others must be onto their trail by now.  Surely, it would not be much longer before someone came for her.  But what if Ozai had been right?  What if Aang had simply given her over to her fate and renounced their friendship for good?  Despite her greatest efforts, she could not stifle the ever-growing voice of doubt in her head. 

Even if that were the case, her other friends would not let her down, she was sure of it.  If anyone was familiar with the dark inner workings of Ozai’s mind, it was Zuko; he would track him down.  Maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but eventually he would.  What frightened her was the thought of her friends getting hurt, or worse, if they actually did catch up to them.  Zuko had become a master firebender, but even Iroh had been uncertain that he could beat Ozai.  If so, did the rest of them even stand a chance?

Katara sauntered through the center of the marketplace until she found a stall that sold Earth Kingdom clothing, managed by a smiling, middle-aged man with silver streaks peppering his chocolate-colored hair.  He greeted her with a nod as she began sifting through the assorted fabrics and garments, trying her best to focus her thoughts on the task at hand when a thought occurred to her.

With Jiao gone, there would be only one man standing in her way of freedom instead of two.  One intimidating, powerfully built, dangerous man.  That was if Ozai did not have undercover spies planted all over, devout loyalists who had gotten word of the former Fire Lord’s escape and vowed to help him.  But she doubted he could have coordinated that this early in the game.  It would be far more difficult for Ozai to stop her alone if she could get enough distance between them.  This could be her only chance for escape.  She knew what might happen if she failed, but if she succeeded she could save her friends from a potentially deadly confrontation.  She had to try.

Katara held up a dress at eye-level, pretending to be immensely interested in the garment, and peeked out of the corner of her eye toward where Ozai was trying to ignore a chatty saleswoman from whom he was purchasing food.  The hood of his cloak obstructed most of her view of his face, but she could tell that he was staring downward to avoid making eye contact with the merchant as much as possible. 

Turning back to the vendor, who was now eyeing her curiously, she smiled as casually as she could and handed him the money for the dress.  She glanced around and was about to turn away when an idea struck her.

“Excuse me,” she said, putting on her sweet voice.  “Is there somewhere I could change into this now?” 

The man gave her a strange look, so she quickly elaborated.  “I love it so much, I’d really like to put it on now and where it home.”

He smiled proudly then and puffed up his chest a bit at the compliment.  Katara sighed internally, thankful to have not lent him any suspicion.  She did not exactly look like she belonged in this town.

“Certainly,” he chuckled.  “Come around back here.  I have an area specifically for these types of things.”  The merchant led her around the corner to the back of the stall as he continued.  “Some women nowadays insist on trying on the garments before buying them to make sure they fit.  These days as a clothier, if you don’t offer that service they take their business elsewhere.”

He gestured toward a tiny room, which was not really a room at all but a curtain draped around a circular wooden rod protruding from the back of the stall.  The space inside was not much larger than the width of her shoulders.  Katara thanked him and stepped inside, quickly shedding her torn dress and slipping on the new Earth Kingdom garment.  It was a simple, pale yellow wrap-around dress that fell to halfway between her knees and ankles, with long sleeves and olive green trim along the neckline, wrists, and bottom hem.  It was not a particularly beautiful garment and not one that Katara would have picked if she had given it her full attention, but that was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.

Once she had situated the dress properly, she stepped out and walked around the side of the stall, peering cautiously around the corner to check for Ozai.  She scanned as much of the marketplace as she could from her hiding spot but he was nowhere in sight.  She was not sure whether to feel relieved or panicked at this development.  If she made a run for it now, there was a chance she could escape before he knew what had happened.  On the other hand, if she could not see him, she had no sure way of knowing where he was or whether he might have a view of her from somewhere she could not see.

In the end, she decided that stalling was doing nothing to help her.  Looking around one last time, she took a deep breath, counted to three in her head, and sprung forward, making a mad dash through the marketplace toward the main part of town.  Surely, she could find an Earth Kingdom guard post and they would be able to help her.

She ran as fast as she could.  Her legs pumped and she pushed herself past the point of pain.  She needed to get away.   Stalls and booths zoomed past her, soon replaced by small dilapidated buildings packed closely together.  She rounded a corner and the residential part of the town finally came into view.  A solitary guard was standing watch at the stone entryway that separated the town from the market.  He perked up at the sight of her storming toward him and stiffened his stance, making it clear that he was not going to move out of her way, forcing her to come to a skidding stop.

“I.D. please,” he muttered apathetically.

Katara blinked and let out a frustrated huff, taken aback by the strange and untimely request.  “What?”

“This town is off-limits to non-residents, orders from the Earth King.  Proper identification is required to enter.”

She did _not_ have time for this.  “Please,” she begged, “I need to get in there!”

“I’m sorry, miss, I can’t let you do that.   The Earth King’s got a lot of towns in these parts on lockdown trying to back former Fire Lord Ozai into a corner.  Did you know he’s supposedly escaped from prison?”

Katara was dumbfounded.  She wanted to scream to the guard that she was the convict’s hostage, but she was not sure if he would believe her and time was running out.  With a frustrated groan, she darted back the way she came, but this time she was not sure where to go.  She just needed somewhere to hide out, bide her time until hopefully Ozai would go searching for her elsewhere.

Just as she rounded the corner again, a familiar form in a black hooded cloak caught her eye amongst the crowd.  Ozai was making his way through the masses of people hastily, doing his best not to draw attention to himself while scanning the marketplace with an intense glower.  He was looking for her.

Without thinking, she tore through the nearest alley, ducked into a bolted doorway, and tried to squeeze into nothingness.  She prayed to the spirits that Ozai had not seen her before she dashed inside.  Her heart was pounding in her ears, her breathing amplified in the tight, lonely corridor.  She tried to listen for any signs of pursuit, any indication that she had been sniffed out, but all she could make out was the muffled droning of hordes of carefree people, oblivious to the threat that lurked amongst them.

All at once, what little light trickled into the alley from outside vanished as though sucked into a black hole.  Turning her head, she saw a tall, broad figure standing in the entrance, a silhouette that Katara recognized in horror.

“There you are, waterbender.”  She sprung to her feet in a defensive stance and backed up against the far wall of the alley.  She had expected his voice to be laced with fury, but instead it was cool and collected.  She realized then that she preferred his anger if it meant she would know what to expect.  This eerie sense of calm he was exhibiting only made her more fearful.

“You know, there is an old saying in the Fire Nation,” he continued as be began advancing toward her slowly.  “It goes, ‘the nail that stands up will be hammered down.’”  His footsteps echoed shallowly off the narrow cobblestone walls as he approached her.  “Allow me to put it in peasant terms for you.  Don’t be defiant,” he clutched her shoulders, pressing her against the wall, “or I will put you in your place.”

Katara’s breaths were quick and shallow, apprehension twisting her stomach into a cacophony of knots.  She half expected Ozai to lash out in some way as punishment, but instead he loosened his grip on her shoulders slightly and leaned back just far enough to look her fully in the eyes.

“I will deal with you later, girl.  Right now, we need to move on and quickly.  Count yourself lucky that I don’t smite you where you stand.  Although fortunately for you, I’m feeling rather merciful today; perhaps I will be lenient.  But if you make one more scene like that, I won’t hesitate to take you down.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” she barely managed to squeak out.

“Good,” he said, wrapping a large hand around her comparably tiny wrist and leading her out of the alley.  “When we step outside, you are going to walk right next to me and we’re going to continue quietly on the way we came.  Understood?”

“Yes.”  Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but the tight walls amplified her words so that Ozai had no trouble hearing her.

The sudden burst of sunlight burned Katara’s eyes as they stepped out of the corridor.  She blinked away the temporary blindness as they made their way back through the marketplace, the crowds dwindling as they approached the outskirts of the market.  The trail was there waiting for them and they silently picked it up where they had left off, leaving behind the last bit of civilization she might see for some time.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

 “Umm, are you sure this is the right place?” Aang asked hesitantly as Appa came to a landing in the middle of a very unfriendly looking area. 

 “Of course I’m sure,” she retorted, feigning offense at his lack of confidence in her.  “Come on.”

It was a far cry from the place Aang had pictured they would end up when Toph mentioned her home town.  The buildings that surrounded them were decrepit at best; the wooden panes of the doors and windows were rotting off, many of which had long since been boarded up.  In a dark alleyway between two buildings, a grimy wiry-haired boar-dog was rooting through a trash bin, sending the refuse scattering onto the street.

Toph led the way along the rutted, filth-encrusted street toward the only building Aang could see that was not on its last leg.  The warm light that spilled out from the windows was a welcome contrast to the otherwise dismal surroundings, the sound of boisterous conversation and high-spirited shouting cut into the lifeless setting as they arrived at the entrance to what appeared to be an off-color tavern.

Without the slightest diffidence, Toph swung open the door to reveal the source of the rampant hooting and hollering from outside.  A bar fight had broken out between two sweaty, grimy men.  One had the other in a headlock, the restrained man throwing ineffective punches at his assailant, encircled by a crowd of equally filthy spectators cheering them on.  A strong whiff of stale beer breath and smoke stung Aang’s nostrils, making him cough as he grew accustomed to the odor.  As the presence of the two out of place strangers dawned on the crowd, the boisterous shouting and swearing gave way to an eerie silence.  Angry faces stared down the two teenagers in the doorway.

“Toph, these men look like they wanna kill me,” Aang whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I know they look rough and sketchy, and that’s cause most of them are.  These are the guys who head up the black market and underground criminal circles.  They get around and often see and hear things that are kept on the down-low.  But they’re also fiercely loyal to their friends.  I got to know most of them pretty well during my Earth Rumble days.  If anyone might know something that could help us, it would be them.”

Suddenly, one burly man pointed a grimy finger at them, a surprised smile washing away his angry glare.  “Hey, fellas!  It’s the Blind Bandit!”

A booming cheer erupted from within the tavern as Toph led a reluctant Aang inside, smirking in delight at the warm welcome.

“We haven’t seen you in a couple years, Bandit,” one man shouted over the ruckus.  “What brings you back to these parts?  You comin’ back to the Earth Rumble tournaments?”

“As much as I’d enjoy that, I’m not here to fight,” she answered, anxious to get right down to business.  “I’m sure most of you have heard by now that former Fire Lord Ozai has escaped from prison.”

A wave of aggravated grumbling spread over the room at the mention of the tyrant’s name.  “Well, he’s taken a good friend of ours hostage,” she continued, raising her voice over the murmurs, “a waterbender named Katara.  And we’re trying to find them.  I was hoping some of you might know something that could help us.”

The grumbling grew quieter as the men looked to one another to speak up.  After a few moments, one man leaning against the bar in the front of the room spoke up.  “Taifeng over there was talking earlier about some strange rumpus he saw this afternoon,” he said, gesturing indiscriminately toward a man along the back wall.  “Tell ‘em what you saw, Taifeng.”

A husky, broad-shouldered man in the back of the tavern began walking forward, parting the sea of sweaty bodies as he approached.  “Yeah, I was tellin’ these boys earlier that I was doing some, uh … business …” he faltered, a mischievous smile on his face, “at a market town all the way near the eastern border –took a komodo lizard with me so I could be in and outta there in a hurry – and I saw some pretty dark-skinned girl high-tailing it into an alleyway, followed shortly by a suspicious looking man in a hooded cloak.  I waited there to make sure the girl was okay, but a few minutes later they walked out together real leisurely-like as if nothing was wrong.  Not wantin’ to stick around any longer than I had to, I shrugged it off and made for home.  Arrived here just about an hour ago.”

Aang’s face went pale at the man’s story as he continued.  “Thought it was strange though – don’t see many exotic-looking folk in these parts.  That’s what caught my attention in the first place.”

“That had to’ve been Ozai and Katara,” Toph thought aloud.  “Taifeng, you rock.  I knew you guys wouldn’t let me down.  Now if you can just tell us how to get to that town and what direction they were headed, with any luck we’ll track them down before the next day is through.”


	12. Chapter 12

Zuko leaned on his elbows against the stern of the ship as he watched Caldera City and the Fire Nation palace shrink into the horizon.  The stifled humming of enthusiastic voices rose from below deck as Sokka and Suki enjoyed a warmhearted reunion with Hakoda.  He had arrived at the palace not more than an hour ago.  Zuko had done his duty as Fire Lord and had been there to greet him, but the scene could not have felt more awkward.  It was evident in the Chief’s mannerisms that he was not ignorant of the inadvertent part the new Fire Lord had played in his daughter’s abduction, and Zuko’s discomfited aura had done nothing to quell the palpable tension.  Beyond the courteous, obligatory _hello’s_ and _how-are-you’s_ , the two had not interacted in any capacity since they had stepped aboard his ship, which only further augmented the situation.

The plan was to start at the seedy merchant’s pier in the eastern Earth Kingdom where Katara stole the waterbending scroll.  It was an infamous haven for people of questionable backgrounds to engage in equally questionable activity without the concern of being ratted out.  People went out of their way to respect the secrecy and privacy of one another’s personal affairs.  As long as you did not try to interfere with others’ lifestyles, you could be selling dead bodies on the black market and they would look the other way.   If all went well, the group would eventually meet up with Aang and Toph somewhere in the middle, doing their best to communicate by messenger hawk, unless either one of them sent word otherwise.  Hakoda had corresponded with the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe to send fleets of ships from both tribes to each Air Temple in case Ozai might have chosen one of the remote locations as a hideout to buy him time.  The search had officially extended to all four corners of the world.  Ozai was not an individual any of the nations would allow to have free reign of the world again.  He could run, but he could only hide for so long. 

The thumping of footsteps along the deck shook Zuko from his thoughts.  The paces sounded unfamiliar and he did not have to turn around to know who was approaching.  His jaw tightened as Hakoda emerged in his peripheral vision.  Taking a place next to him, he followed suit and leaned forward against the ship, gazing briefly out to the horizon before speaking.

 “Hey,” he said casually.

Zuko cleared his throat briefly.  “Hi,” he croaked out, doing his best to sound nonchalant and keeping his gaze fixated on the smudge that was now the Fire Nation in the distance.

 “Don’t think I’ve seen you since your coronation.  How’s life as Fire Lord been treating you?”

 “Uhh… Pretty good I guess.”

 “That’s good to hear.”

 _Is he really gonna talk small-talk right now?_   Zuko shifted on his feet and glanced down, taking a sudden intense interest in the cracks in the wood along the ship’s side.  The rhythmic sloshing of the waves against the ship had become deafening as he desperately searched for some way to lighten the awkwardness.

 “Kinda cool weather for this time of year, isn’t it?” Hakoda said, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah…  Chilly.”

If the tension were any thicker, he would have suffocated.  At this rate, he would much rather Hakoda just wring his neck and get it over with.  If he did not kill him, the awkward silence surely would.

“Sokka told me about you and Katara.”  Zuko gritted his teeth as Hakoda’s words pierced the heavy cloud surrounding them.  With a resigned sigh, he hung his head and let his shoulders slouch forward, admitting his guilt. 

“While I’m disappointed in you both,” he continued, “I’ll spare you the lecture.  You two are old enough to make your own choices in life and to know that every choice you make comes with a consequence, good or bad.  It’s not my place to get involved.  All I care about is bringing Katara back safe and sound.” 

He paused for a moment as though debating whether or not to add onto what he had said.  “Though I have to say I wasn’t all that shocked when Sokka told me.”  Zuko cocked an eyebrow and finally looked Hakoda in the eyes.  He had not expected that.  Hakoda appeared to be trying to hide the smirk on his face as he spoke.  “I thought I saw some sparks between you two after the war ended.  Chocked it up at the time to my aging eyes.  Guess I need to trust my instincts more often.”

The corners of Zuko’s mouth turned up slightly at Hakoda’s light-hearted jab and he exhaled in relief as he realized he was not about to be destroyed, verbally or otherwise.  But fate deemed the feeling short-lived, as though directly mocking his unspoken thoughts.

“Just keep in mind that this is my little girl we’re talking about.  Do this old man a favor and keep your teenage-hormone-driven hands to yourself, will ya?  I’d hate to have to sever one of those pretty royal fingers because I found out my baby’s purity had been compromised.”

Zuko’s heart stopped mid-beat as every muscle in his body tightened at once.  He could not fend off the mortified expression that quickly spread across his face.  This had officially become the single most humiliating moment of his entire life.

“I’m just teasing you!” Hakoda chuckled, slapping Zuko on the back.  “Oh, you should’ve seen the look on your face.” 

It took a moment for Zuko to recover from the mild shock.  _What?_!  Was he supposed to find that amusing or just be really, really relieved?  Just as he had regained enough willpower to force a half-hearted chuckle and try to smile, Hakoda resumed his stone-faced expression and added, “But, seriously…”

Zuko could do nothing but stare at the cracks in the wood, his eyes wide in disbelief.  What he would not give for the spirits to just smite him now and put an end to his humiliation.

“Well, I’m starving,” Hakoda changed the subject, giving Zuko another good-natured slap on the back.  All traces of his solemnity were gone, replaced by a tone so congenial they could have been conversing about the weather.  “What d’ya say we fix ourselves some lunch?”

He walked off, calling out to Sokka to bring up the stewed sea prunes.  Zuko remained frozen in place by the blow he had just sustained.  He could only shake his head in bewilderment, unable to break his wide-eyed gaze from the cracked wood, and slowly released the breath he only then realized he had been holding.  _At least that’s over with_ , he thought as he slowly turned around and made his way toward the tangy, pungent odor of the notorious Water Tribe delicacy.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The sun had almost drained out of the sky overhead, once again sheathing the woods in shadow.  Thankfully the forest was far less dense now than it had been, though with fewer trees providing insulation, the evening was growing cooler much more rapidly.

Ever since their escapade in the market earlier that afternoon Ozai had been hovering more closely to Katara than he had before.  Perhaps he was wary that she might try to escape again, but whatever the reason, the close proximity he seemed determined to maintain was making her nervous.  Every so often she could feel his warm breath graze the back of her neck, at odds with the crisp evening air, creating a wave of goose bumps over her skin that made her shiver in response.

With the darkness setting in, Ozai decided on a suitable spot to set up camp and they eagerly dropped the heavy sacks of food and supplies they had been carrying on their backs.  Katara slumped down to the ground to rest while Ozai worked on making the fire.  He was getting better, she thought; it only took him half as long as it did last time.

She instinctively brought her hand up to her neck to touch that familiar pendant that personified comfort and happiness as she often did in difficult times but was unexpectedly met with only the warmth of her own skin.  A pang of dread wrenched her stomach as she frantically padded herself down, but to no avail.  Her mother’s necklace was gone; she must have lost it in her dash for escape, probably trampled now and lying in a gutter somewhere in that market.  With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that all she could do was concentrate on the present.  Letting this loss overwhelm her would only cloud her senses, and she needed all the clarity she could muster right now.

Ozai sat by the fire with his legs crossed under him as Katara got up and shuffled over, warming her hands over the flames opposite of Ozai and trying to hold back her tears.  There was nothing she could do about it now, and she did not want him to see her crying lest he try to monopolize on her vulnerability.  Neither one of them said a word for several minutes.  She kept waiting for him to scold her for her earlier insubordination as he promised, or at least make eye contact with her, but she ended up waiting in vain.  When she could stand the silence no longer, she finally spoke.

“You didn’t have to kill those men.”

As usual, he did not bother breaking his gaze from the skyward-reaching flames in front of him.  “They gave me no other choice,” he uttered in a monotone voice. 

“There is always a choice,” she shot back.  “You could have rendered them unconscious and kept going; it would have had the same effect and those men would still have their lives.”

“And therein would lie the problem, wouldn’t it?”  Ozai stood then, his eyes narrowed with a callous glint, the impatience evident in his sardonic tone.  “You know they had discovered who I was.  If I hadn’t killed them, they would have later sounded an alert and this area would be swarming with guards.  So, as I said, they gave me no choice.”  Quivering shadows splayed eerily across his face as he towered over her on the opposite side of the fire, raising his chin in a gesture of power as he looked down at her.    “And you would do well to remember your place, peasant.  You are in no position to dictate to me what should and should not be done.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the ground.  It was a senseless argument – _what’s done is done_ , she thought – and she was much too tired to argue with a man who would never back down about something that could not be changed.

Katara turned around and plodded heavily over to where she had dropped her sleeping mat earlier and struggled with its pouch before finally yanking it free with an aggravated groan.  She endured an equally arduous tussle with the mat itself as she unrolled it and tried to position it so that it lay perfectly out of the way of any rocks or tree roots.  Finally just as she was about to drop her weary body down to sleep, Ozai’s voice rang out.

“Girl,” he called out, startling her back into full consciousness.  “Move your sleeping mat over here.”

Katara heaved a frustrated sigh as she rubbed her throbbing temples.  “Why should I do that?  And I told you, my name is Katara.”  Grimacing in his direction, she saw that Ozai had already prepared for sleep, having shed his cloak and shirt, and was lying inside the cover of his mat.  He was resting on his side, propping his head up with his right hand.  His ebony hair flowed freely down the back of his neck onto the bare, muscular arm that supported his head.  It was the first time that she had gotten such a personal glimpse of his physique and the sight made her face flush slightly.

“You are not entitled to question my orders, peasant,” he grumbled, emphasizing the word _peasant_.  “But in congruence with my lenient mood today, I suppose I can oblige you with an answer.”  His tone was cool and hinted of disdain.  “Since you have become an increasingly irritating thorn in my side and I cannot be bothered by another of your poorly conceived escape attempts, you will be moving your mat here,” he gestured to a flat spread of earth near his own mat, “and henceforth you will be spending your nights beside me.”

Katara glared at him but decided not to argue at the moment, given the current circumstances.  Swallowing her pride, she picked up her mat and situated it relatively near Ozai, making a point to keep several feet’s distance between them.

“What are you doing, girl?”  His voice was sharper this time, more forceful, but still collected and colored with what sounded to her like a hint of amusement.

 “Moving my mat as you so instructed,” she responded in a scathingly obedient manner, never bothering to look up as she stooped beside her mat to arrange it once again the way she liked it.  Although she knew better than to put up a fight at the moment, she could not resist jabbing a little indignation his way.

A deep, guttural laugh pierced the stillness, seeming so out of place that it made her flinch.  Katara stood up quickly and turned to see a smug smile splayed broadly across his face.  Her brows quivered in anxious tension, fearing the reason behind his behavior.

“Apparently I need to be more specific to cater to your inferior peasant understandings.”  He sneered as he saw her jaw tighten in anger at the insult.  “When I said beside me, girl, I meant it in the most literal context.”

“What?!” she shrieked as the implication of his statement dawned on her. he scoffed, and smiled as he saw her grit her teeth Katara’s eyes widened with furious intensity as he again gestured to the clearing next to his own mat.  Was this what he’d had in mind at the marketplace when he had promised to deal with her later?  She certainly would not put it past him, being who he was; but surely even he would not commit an act as vile as… that.  Her fists clenched so tightly in bewilderment that she did not notice her finger nails digging into the palms of her hands. 

“If this is some sleazy attempt to try and…take advantage of me, you better think again!”  Her sapphire eyes were smoldering and she no longer cared to keep her defiance in check.  She was met only with the same scornful, mocking chuckle and that arrogant expression which then quickly diminished to a condescending glower. 

“Allow me to make two things inescapably clear to you, peasant,” he began, his voice assuming a grave and severe tone.  “And I will speak slowly so you will be sure to understand.  First of all, do not dare take such a tone with me, girl.  I have been exceedingly merciful with you so far.  It would be most unwise to further try my patience, as it is wearing very thin.  Under any other circumstances, someone in your position would be dead.  I have killed people for less.  Understand that.” 

An arrogant sneer now mingled with his more severe countenance as he continued in a salacious tone.  “Secondly, do not flatter yourself.  A woman of such lowly stature could only hope to dream of a man such as myself desiring her.  Perhaps you should examine your _own_ desires before making such accusations, to assure that you are not projecting _your_ fantasies upon others.”

Katara was dumbfounded.  She could not believe what he was saying to her, what he was accusing her of.  How dare he?  She opened her mouth to object, but the words seemed to be conspiring against her, leaving her utterly speechless.

 “I am losing what little patience I have left with you, girl,” he growled, the fire in his eyes darkening in intensity.  “Move your mat over here.  Now.”

Katara hesitated momentarily, but knew it was best not to fight him on this.  She could use her bending now while he was open and vulnerable, but at best it would only buy her time – she doubted she could outrun him and she was no match for his brute strength – and at worst… she did not want to think about that now.  She would wait until the opportune moment to fight back; there would be a time and a place for that later, but this was not it. 

She picked up her mat and dropped it heavily next to Ozai’s.  Slowly and cautiously she crawled into her mat, her body tense, half expecting him to lunge at her as she had feared.  But that moment never came.  Cautiously, she turned her head to look at him but he had rolled onto his back and was staring up at the tree canopy above them.  The moonlight shone through the lattice of leaves overhead, creating a pale kaleidoscope across his features.

Never moving his gaze from above, he spoke.  “If you are contemplating running away again, you should reconsider if your life holds any value to you.  I will not be so merciful again.”  His voice sounded cool and monotone, almost bored.  And with that he turned his back to her and left her to sleep.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai stared off into the ever-darkening shadows surrounding them, unable to quell his restless mind.  He had a feeling sleep was going to elude him tonight.

It was a peculiar thing.  Ozai had spent half his lifetime building a virtually impenetrable shell around himself to keep his innermost thoughts and emotions hidden from others, anything that might translate to weakness and lead to vulnerability.  In the process, he had purposefully hardened himself to the plights of others so as not to be swayed by an inconvenient emotional response.  It had been decades since he had let his guard down long enough to open up the way he had last night to another individual.  And when that moment asserted itself, that individual happened to be none other than a teenage girl.  He knew he should be furious at himself, but instead he only felt moderately aggravated.  It was far too perplexing to leave much room for anger.  What had come over him?

It was an answer that seemed bent on evading him, taunting him to no end.  Naturally there was the desire to win her trust, bring her to his side, but there was something else.  What troubled him was his lack of pretense and the fact that he had harbored no ulterior motive while speaking to her.

Perhaps it was that she had willingly salvaged him from that endless abyss of dark, icy water, coming between him and a watery grave.  It was something he could still not shake from the far corners of his mind.  If she had left him to die, that would be something he could understand.  That would have made sense.  He would have even respected her for it.  It was her saving him that had caught him off guard and left him bewildered.  Was it possible that without his knowing it, the incident had softened him toward her just enough to persuade his subconscious mind to let her in?

Or perhaps it was the way she had looked at him as he divulged his story; there seemed to have been a faint glimmer of sympathy yet unhardened by complete hatred in her eyes.  The girl was inclined to believe the best in everyone.  There must be some small part of her that was still moldable, yet to be fully won over by the years of indoctrination.  For the first time in as long as he could remember, his words had not fallen on entirely hate-hardened ears.  And that was something he was certainly no longer accustomed to.

He stopped himself short and inhaled deeply, trying to cleanse his mind of the rampant thoughts.  It was of no consequence, he told himself; none of that had the slightest hold over him.  He needed to focus on what really mattered, on the task at hand.  As his mind drifted back to more comfortable waters, a ghost of a smile touched his lips as he reminded himself of how that same naive sympathy would serve to keep the girl in the palm of his hand.  Slowly but surely, he would loosen the harness of trust that bound her to the Avatar, snaring that pathetic boy into a trap that his one and only would help create. 

Ozai sighed as he felt the earlier nagging thoughts receding into the dark corners of his consciousness.  Yes, he would play the poor girl to his advantage.  It was so wicked a thing to do, he almost felt guilty about doing it.  _Almost_ , he smiled to himself.  But life is never fair, he knew that firsthand.  And as certain as life itself, no good deed ever goes unpunished. 


	13. Chapter 13

Just the tip of a sunrise was visible as Hakoda’s ship came into port at the seedy merchants’ pier.  It had taken three days to arrive at their destination; three days too long as far as Zuko was concerned.  They would have to pick up the pace on land if they ever wanted a chance to close the distance between themselves and Ozai.  At least Aang and Toph had the advantage of Appa and could cover more ground.  He hoped and prayed that any day they might receive a letter stating that Katara was with them, safe and sound, and that Aang had put his father in his place once and for all. 

By the time they had docked their ship securely to the pier and made sure it would not be easy for anyone to commandeer it while they were away, the port city was bathed in the pale golden light of the morning sun and already bustling with people.  Merchants were busy setting up their stalls while some of the local color had seemingly emerged from the woodwork, rummaging through the previous night’s trash for their morning meal or slouching atop an empty crate in the shadow of a building, enjoying their morning smoke and flashing toothless grins at passersby.

Zuko, Hakoda, Sokka, and Suki stood side by side, taking in the scene before them, trying to discern the best place to start.  In the end, the four decided to split up to question the locals and any travelers they happened across and then meet back where they started in an hour.  After that, they would gather their supplies on the ship, buy a few ostrich horses, and pray that their ship would still be intact when they returned, whenever that might be.

Zuko was the second of them to return to the meeting spot on the pier.  His inquisition had proven fruitless.  Suki was already back, her expression veiled in concern.  It appeared her investigation had not fared much better.

“I’m guessing you didn’t get much out of these people either,” Suki muttered, reading the look on his face as Zuko came to stand next to her.

“No,” was all he could muster, staring down at his feet, watching the glistening waters ripple beneath the gaps in the boards.  The lively, carefree murmur of merchants and shoppers felt like a deliberate affront in the face of their catastrophe.  How could they be so cavalier in light of present events?  Of course, he could not blame people like that for being oblivious or apathetic, or whatever they were; people who lived such lives funneled their focus inwardly first, turning attention to the affairs of the rest of the world as an afterthought, if at all.

“Don’t worry, Zuko,” Suki said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “We’ll find her.”

The purposeful thud of footsteps along the pier forced Zuko to break his downward gaze.  Looking up, he saw Hakoda approaching them wearing a markedly vexed expression, followed closely behind by Sokka who exuded a strikingly similar aura.

Zuko straightened up and took an anticipatory step toward the Chief.  “Any luck?” he asked, raising a hesitantly hopeful brow.

“I’m afraid not,” replied Hakoda, trying ineffectively to mask the worry in his voice.

Zuko’s shoulders sagged as he released a sigh.  “Same here.  These people weren’t any help at all.  It doesn’t seem like my dad and Katara came through here.”

“And if they did, it’s unlikely any of these miscreants would have paid them much notice,” Hakoda added, nodding his head toward the crowds of unsavory men and women.  “Come on, let’s get our things and hit the road.  Sokka, you go barter us some ostrich horses.  Time to kick up some dust.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai rubbed the satiny blue strip of material between his fingers, feeling the cool metal pendant turning about against the palm of his hand.  He was uncertain what significance the trinket held to the girl but it was clear that she cherished it, always reaching up to caress it with the same bittersweet expression on her face.  That is until she lost it in the ruckus of her pitiable escape attempt.  It was that very trinket in fact that had betrayed her hiding place, lying just before the entrance to that alleyway as though it had wanted him to find her.

Careful to keep his back to the girl, he half glanced over his shoulder to see that she had just finished rolling up her sleeping mat and was busy combing her fingers through her sleep-disheveled hair.  His eyes lingered there a moment longer than he had intended.  Perhaps it was the element of raw beauty in her tousled brown locks or the way the dappled light danced across her mocha skin, but he found it momentarily difficult to break his gaze.

Ozai had scoffed when he’d found out about his son’s affair with the Water Tribe girl.  A peasant by Fire Nation criteria.  He’d known his son was a failure, but stooping to such low standards was a disgrace even for him.  But as Ozai gazed at her now, a part of him, however small and detestable, was beginning to understand what his son saw in the girl.  She was an exotic beauty, there was no disputing that.  And there was a fire in those watery-blue eyes of hers that defied her heritage; at times she seemed more firebender than waterbender.

A gust of chill air wafted through the trees, shaking him from his trance.  He shivered slightly, gazing up at the treetops that were now almost fully taken over by the blushing shades of autumn.  The season was encroaching much earlier than he had anticipated.  That would likely mean an early winter too.  Damn the spirits; this would most certainly be a hindrance to the success of his plan.  He would need to pick up the pace if he hoped to get anywhere near the Ruins of Taku and find that buried manuscript before winter set in.

His thoughts drifted back to the necklace in his hand.  Why he had held on to it he could not say – an irritating little conundrum for someone as keenly self-aware as himself.  But as he continued to roll the trinket in his hand, the reason for keeping it no longer mattered.  What was important, he realized, was how beautifully it was about to contribute to his plan.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara knelt on the ground beside her perfectly rolled-up sleeping mat, proud to have finally prevailed over the obstinate item.  She inhaled deeply as a cool breeze rustled through the trees and kissed her face.  How she missed the ice and snow of her homeland.  Warm weather was nice of course, up to a point, but she had always felt more at home in the cold.

“Girl.” Like an unwelcome guest, Ozai’s voice broke through her thoughts unsolicited.

Katara sighed heavily at the familiar slur.  How many times did she need to remind him that her name was –

“Here,” he said, tossing a small object over his shoulder.  It gleamed briefly in the speckles of sunlight before coming to land within arm’s length in front of her.  “I believe this is yours.”

Katara’s eyes widened at the sight of her mother’s necklace lying on the ground before her.  She blinked hard to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her and after stumbling over a few disjointed words, finally found the ability to speak clearly.

“My necklace… You’ve had it all this time?”  She could feel the shock giving way to smoldering anger inside her.  “You _knew_ I would be missing it, and you’re just now giving it back to me _?_!”

“Be grateful I held onto it at all instead of simply discarding it as I should have, water peasant.”

She wanted to scream.  The man was infuriating!  In a huff, she reached forward and snatched the necklace from the ground, glowering up at him before turning around to tend to any dirt or scuffs it might have acquired.  When she was satisfied with its condition, she delicately replaced it on her neck, taking care to see that it was clasped extra securely.  As she pulled herself up and turned around, she jumped and nearly stumbled backward at the sight of Ozai’s towering form now standing inches away from her.

“Is that any way to thank me for returning your precious little necklace to you?”  The fire in his eyes betrayed his satirical tone.  Instinctively, Katara took a step back to increase the distance between them but her efforts were thwarted by a countering stride from Ozai.  “I could just as easily have left it where it lied or kicked it into a gutter.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she shot back, her tone challenging and dangerous.  He had crossed the line; she refused to let him meddle in that part of her life.  “You don’t actually expect me to believe that you gave it back to me out of the goodness of your own heart, do you?  How stupid do you think I am?  You have some ulterior motive for doing this, I just haven’t figured it out yet.  But I will.  And if you think I can be so easily deceived then you’ve clearly underestimated who you’re dealing with.”

Katara drew in a breath, the fire within her beginning to wane.  As her head cleared, she became dreadfully aware of the avalanche of words that had just tumbled forth unrestrained.  Without warning, Ozai took another hasty step forward at her defiance and placed a strong grasp around her arm, drawing her into him forcefully.

“I think you’ve underestimated who _you’re_ dealing with, water serpent.”  He let out a ragged breath as though to calm himself and relaxed his grip on her arm slightly.  Bringing his other hand up to her neck, he brushed his fingers against her skin before half-wrapping them around the base of her neck, his palm resting upon the carved ivory pendant.

“Must I once again put forward that perhaps you don’t know me as well as think you do?”  His amber gaze burned into her as his voice softened, making the breath momentarily hitch in her throat.  Those eyes had such a familiar quality to them.  They were Zuko’s eyes, she realized.  They had gazed into hers longingly many times before.

“It is rather upsetting that you would mistake my actions for anything outside of gracious,” he drawled on.  “What could I possibly stand to gain from returning it?”

His index finger shifted slightly, brushing over her skin.  It was so subtle, yet seemed vaguely deliberate, that she could not decide if it was intentional or not.  His hands were surprisingly soft and smooth against the delicate skin of her neck, so different from the way she would have expected them to feel.  It seemed incredibly mismatched to his callous demeanor.

If Katara had thought it impossible for him to get any closer, this moment was determined to prove her wrong.  Leaning down, his lips just above her ear, he murmured in a smooth, subdued voiced, “Honestly, I’d rather hoped we were past all that.”

Ozai was so close now that she could smell his breath as it grazed her face.  His scent was rustic yet bright, like firewood burning in the crisp air of autumn.  A sudden fluttering in her stomach sent a familiar, very unwelcome feeling coursing through her veins.  She cursed herself when she could not stop the blood from rushing to her face.  What was wrong with her?

As he leaned back, much to her relief, his eyes seared into hers once more.  Quickly, she turned her face toward the ground, praying to the spirits he would not detect her reaction.  It was in that moment that she recognized for the first time how attractive the man really was.  The unexpected internal confession made her stomach flutter all the more, followed by an ever-growing nausea.  What was she saying? 

 _No, Katara_.  She stopped herself short.  _This isn’t real.  You’re just… scared and confused and… this isn’t real.  Snap out of it_. 

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she turned to look back up at him.  All of that was just the shell of who he was, she desperately reminded herself; beautiful on the outside but decayed deep within.  The true man underneath the magnetic façade was cruel, dark, unfeeling, and despicable.  He was a murderer, a family wrecker, a destroyer of peace.  Wasn’t he? 

A lump began forming in her throat.  For the first time, Katara hesitated; something inside her resisted applying those labels to him.  She swallowed hard, the bewilderment threatening to bring tears to her eyes.

Finally, Ozai released his hold on her and stepped away.  All at once, she felt as though she could breathe again.  “Come,” he said, his voice retaining that unusually soft tone.  “Gather your things.  We need to move on.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Toph clutched onto the side of Appa’s saddle as Aang brought the bison to a landing in the middle of the vast forest below.  She was hoping to have spotted some sort of clue or sign as to the former Fire Lord’s whereabouts by now, having Appa as an advantage.  There had been a couple of times they had caught sight of what looked like a newly worn trail down below but, upon closer inspection, had only turned out to be bald spot in the forest or an animal’s burrow. 

They had tried to extend the time between breaks as long as they could for fear of missing something important if they were to stop, but this time she was afraid they had pushed it a little too far.  Appa’s energy was quickly waning and they were all in dire need of food, water, and rest.  _And perhaps a little attitude adjustment_ , she thought.  She had done her best to try and redirect Aang’s focus and priorities, but to no avail.  He seemed bent on making this experience as painstaking for them both as possible, as though it were not already difficult enough.  In fact, Toph was certain that the search would have been more productive, not to mention enjoyable, if she had come alone, and that was saying something considering she could not see a thing a from Appa’s saddle.

Toph braced herself for the jolt of landing, releasing a pent-up sigh of relief as they made contact with solid ground and peeling her white-knuckled fingers from the brim of the saddle.  Aang said nothing as he sprung nimbly to the ground and slumped himself down onto a nearby tree stump.  Toph stayed aboard to begin unloading some of the food and water, relishing in the notion of a much-needed break.  After carefully throwing some of their packaged foodstuffs to the ground, she hoisted up the giant sack of bison feed they’d brought along, nearly toppling over under the weight of it, and heaved it over the side.

It did not take her long to notice that Aang appeared to have no intention of pitching in.  As she dragged Appa’s food to over to the famished bison, she could feel Aang slumped over in the same spot, with seemingly no inclination of helping her.  They were a team, and she was not about to let him off the hook. 

“Hey, Baldy!” she called out to him, struggling to hold off Appa’s overzealous attempt to dive into the sack of feed.  “How bout getting off your self-righteous little tush and lending a hand?  We don’t have all day.”

Making no attempt to restrain his disgruntlement, Aang pulled himself laboriously from the tree stump and sullenly trudged over to the parcel of foodstuffs.  After a slapdash effort to unroll and lay out the weaselbear skin they used for eating on, he whipped out the dried fruits and meats, and a few nuts in the parcel and splayed them across the animal skin in a haphazard mound.

That was all Toph could bear.  He was acting downright ridiculous!  She had put up with all she could from the airbender, but she had hit her breaking point.  She would put an end to this now.

“All right, that’s it!” she yelled, slamming down the sack of feed, much to Appa’s delight.  “I’ve had all I can take of your whining and grumbling about how pissed you are at Katara.  Yes, she screwed you over big time and I feel for you.  I’ve tried to back off and give you some room to vent and work things through.  But it’s time you stop being a little crybaby and rise above it.”

Aang froze and slowly stood up, turning a vicious glare toward the blind girl.  “ _What_ did you just call me _?_!”

“You heard me, cream puff.  Ever since we started out, you’ve done nothing but mope and gripe about how much everything sucks and how terrible Katara is and blah, blah, blah.  If I’d wanted to be surrounded by a gloomy, self-pitying little girl I would’ve joined Mai in prison.  Come to think of it, maybe I should have.  It would have been a lot less whiny.”

“You better cut it out before I blast you into your past life!” he growled, pointing a threatening finger toward her.

“Oh, yeah?  Go ahead and do it.”  Toph shifted into her earthbending stance, challenging him with a beckoning wave of her fingers.

“I’m warning you, Toph!  Stop taunting me or you’ll regret it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize _baby_ was so sensitive.”

She smirked as the boy’s muscles grew more and more tense with anger.  He was about to boil over, she could feel it.  His vibrations were on the brink of eruption.  _Meltdown in three, two, one…_

“Aaghh!” Aang roared as he jumped into a spinning kick and sent a powerful burst of air hurtling at the girl.  Sensing his movement, Toph easily dodged the attack and waited for him to touch back down.  Knowing the general direction in which he had jumped, she was ready for him.  As he came to a light-footed landing, Toph stomped into the ground and launched a sudden counter attack, sending Aang flying backward several feet and landing with a loud thud on his back.

Aang lay on the ground, gasping for the air that had been knocked out of him and trying to gather his wits about him again.  After a few moments, he recovered and picked himself off the ground, shuffling to a nearby tree and sliding down to sit at its base, resting his arms on his knees.  He was careful to keep his disgruntled gaze cast downward, hanging his head in bitter defeat.  Neither of them spoke for several moments until Toph finally broke the silence.

“Alright,” she began.  “Now that _that’s_ out of your system, maybe we can actually talk – productively – about what’s going on.”

“What more is there to say?” Aang protested in a dispirited tone.  “I’m through talking about it.”

“Look, I don’t think you get it, Twinkles.  This is way beyond your little love triangle dilemma.”

“Believe me, Toph, I get it.”  His body remained motionless; only his eyes moved to shoot her a brief indignant glance.

“No, you obviously don’t.  Let me recap for you in case you’ve failed – once again – to hang on to the big picture.  Ozai… remember Fire Lord Ozai?  The guy who nearly destroyed the earth – and you – a couple years ago?” 

She could see Aang beginning to quiver with agitation once again.  _Good_ , she thought.  She was through going easy on him.

“Yeah, that guy,” she continued in heightened sarcasm.  “He’s on the loose.  And not only is Katara in the clutches of his merciless hand, but the entire world is about to fall prey to him again unless you – the Avatar – find him and stop him.”

“Well, maybe I shouldn’t _be_ the Avatar anymore!” Aang shouted, jumping to his feet.  “Maybe I’m not good enough to be.  It sounds like you’ve sorted out the plan just fine on your own.  Don’t let _me_ stop you.”  Turning around, he began to storm off in the opposite direction.

Toph found herself taken aback slightly by his caustic attitude.  This was not the productive one-on-one she was hoping to have.

“Aang,” she called after him. 

The airbender halted abruptly at hearing the girl use his real name.  Not one of her stupid nicknames, but his actual name.  Reluctantly, he turned around to face her. 

“What is this?” she asked, softening her voice to a level that was almost foreign to her.  “You’re not acting like yourself.  I know you, and this isn’t you.  If there’s something else –”

“There’s nothing else!” he interrupted, slicing the air in an exasperated wave of his arms.

“– Do us both a favor and spit it out.  Otherwise, Katara is in serious trouble and all you can think about is yourself and your own feelings.  Honestly, you’re acting childish and selfish.  What ever happened to the forgiveness you always preached about?  Don’t you think Katara deserves the same treatment?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know about any of that anymore.  All I know is that every day I feel more and more – just – angry.  Like there’s a fire inside me growing and I’m powerless to stop it.  And maybe you’re right; maybe it’s not like me.  But I can’t let it go.  I don’t want to let it go.”  He paused and looked away, lowering his voice.  “Maybe it serves her right.  Maybe this is justice.”

There were very few circumstances that could render Toph Bei Fong completely dumfounded, but this was one such moment.

“Wh–?”  She tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words temporarily eluded her.  “I can’t believe you’d say something like that!  Do you hear yourself _?_!”

“Hey, this has nothing to do with you, okay!  Just… leave me alone!  I’ll figure this out on my own.”

Aang spun back around and took off into the forest, disappearing from view.  Toph sighed and made her way back over to Appa.  After giving the bison a comforting pat on the muzzle, she sat down on the weaselbear skin and began nibbling on a piece of dried fish.  She would give Aang a little space and then search him out if he did not return in a couple of hours.  She hoped he did not get too far; if they got separated it would jeopardize their entire mission.  As she cooled down, she began to wonder if she should have tried to stop him to prevent any further delays.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Toph led Appa by the reigns through the forest, carefully maneuvering the giant bison between the trees.  The leaves that had begun to fall from the trees crunched and whispered beneath her feet.  It had been over three hours since she had last seen Aang and it was getting late into the afternoon.  She could not shake the nagging concern about what might happen if she did not find him before nightfall.  Occasionally she called out his name, pausing to listen for an answer but was only met with the hushed murmuring of the forest.

Toph tried to keep the bison under control, but he had started tugging on the reigns to the right, pulling Toph in that direction.  She scolded him gently, urging him to walk in a straight line, but continually found herself yanked to the side again.

“Appa!” she protested.  “Cut it out.  We need to focus on finding Aang.”

The bison groaned and wrenched the reigns again, this time throwing her completely off-balance.  Toph stumbled to the right and was about to scold Appa again when she noticed a faint, familiar outline sitting just beyond the trees on the bank of a bubbling stream.  Instinct told her what she already knew – it had to be Aang. 

She released her hold on the bison’s reigns and snaked her way through the trees.  Upon reaching the boy, she could feel a strangely tranquil aura emanating through the earth around him.  He must have been meditating and gone into the spirit world, she realized.  He was sitting with his legs crossed under him and his forearms resting on his knees, completely unresponsive to her presence.

As Toph began setting up camp to wait for Aang to return, her mind began to wander.  As strange and confusing as his behavior had been, there was one thing that she was certain of: something was not right.  She had known Aang for going on three and half years and in all that time he had been so reliably… good.  Sometimes obnoxiously so.  Never had she known him to hold a grudge or let his anger steep and intensify in the way it had.  Even in the face of pain and loss, he could always see through to the objective reality. 

She hoped for everyone’s sake that Aang’s spirit world journey would afford him some clarity and give him the help he needed so they could focus on what was important.  She knew they might lose time, but if it meant that the subsequent search would be more productive, she supposed they could spare a day or so for him to get his act together.  In the meantime, perhaps she would designate a certain radius around their location to search on foot.  It might not result in much success, but at least she would not be wasting any time and it would certainly be better than doing nothing.  She only hoped that Aang would be as mindful of their time and hurry back.


	14. Chapter 14

Katara dropped her portion of the supplies to the ground heavily and leaned back to stretch her weary muscles.  She had been trying to keep pace with Ozai who had taken the lead and was blazing ahead, seeming to have relinquished at least a fraction of his former misgivings of her.  Still, he was careful to keep an eye on her, checking her from his peripheral vision often enough to discourage any kind of rebellion. 

They had abandoned the path on which they had started for a much more rustic course, running parallel to a small river.  Every now and then she could smell the rotting leaves, almost taste the metallic tinge of wet rock.  Katara’s ankles were beginning to ache from turning awkwardly over hidden tree roots and stumbling into concealed potholes.  Her balance had been occasionally compromised by the weight of her share of luggage, and more than once she had tripped forward and nearly collided full-force into Ozai, thankfully steadying herself at the last second.  That was an awkward moment she could certainly do without.

There was a new edginess in Ozai’s mannerisms; it was apparent to her that he had become unpleasantly aware of some impinging development and was in a race to outsmart time.  They had not even sustained a full night’s rest before Ozai had woken her to start out again.  The worry was evident in the tension that hardened his lips, the way his brows scrunched together when he thought she was not looking.  Perhaps she could use this as leverage, gain an edge over him.  Perhaps if she could somehow stall his efforts, his plan would be thwarted or at least weakened.

The brilliance of the sun burned the shadows out.  Collapsing under a canopy of gold, Katara closed her eyes and let her arms fall out to either side of her, sighing at the refreshing touch of grassy earth against her tired skin.  She probably looked ridiculous to the cold and distant tyrant standing next to her, but what did it matter what he thought of her?  She needed this moment.  Breathing deeply the scent of autumn leaves and fresh tree sap, she willed as much of the burdensome thoughts away as she could, if just for a moment.  Her eyes wandered over the colorful lattice of leaves overhead as she brought a hand up to her neck to fondle the comfort and reassurance embodied thereon. 

The grass stirred beside her as Ozai wordlessly sunk to the ground as well, sitting a bit closer to her than she would have liked and leaning his weight back on one arm.  Though he did not show it, she was certain he must have felt just as tired as she was.  From the corner of her eye she could sense him staring at her.  Without moving her head, she briefly shifted her eyes in his direction in a subtle attempt to convey an air of self-assurance.  She would not be intimidated by his efforts to make her uncomfortable; he would not take this moment away from her. 

The two of them sat in tired silence long enough for the late afternoon sun to weave its way farther below the honeyed treetops.  Katara was more than grateful for the break and was in no hurry to spoil it with wasted conversation.  But the peace was regrettably short-lived, obliterated by Ozai’s obtrusive voice.

 “What is it about that silly pendant that enthralls you so?”  His tone was cool and laced with an understated mockery that sparked her hair to stand on end.

“It’s not a silly pendant!” she shot back, clutching her hand around the carved ivory and sitting up sharply to face him.  She looked away then, grimacing both at his stinging words and her own abrasive reaction.  This was exactly the kind of trivial nonsense she had been hoping to avoid.  After a moment, she elaborated, forcing her voice to stay calm.  “It was my mother’s.  It’s all I have left of her.”

“I see,” was his only reply, his voice devoid of emotion.  But he continued to look at her with that piercing amber gaze she was growing so accustomed to.  She shifted her eyes away, felt her stomach tightening.  Not knowing what else to do, she continued.

“The necklace makes me feel like a part of her is still alive, still with me somehow.   When I thought I’d lost it, I was devastated.   It’s the only thing that keeps her from completely slipping away from me forever.”

The words made her pause.  How unnervingly close she had been to that reality.  If it had not been for Ozai picking it up… No, even then she may never have seen it again.  It was his decision to give it back to her that deserved her thanks.  But why had he done it?  He did not have to, and it was the last thing she had expected from him.  As her thoughts wandered, she was met with more questions.  Other than the blatant reality of being a hostage, she had to admit that so far she had remained relatively unharmed in his possession.  At times, he had even been surprisingly… mild with her.  If such a word could be attributed to him.  What if he really was not the monster the world had painted him as?

Katara squeezed her eyes closed at the thought as though to shut it out.  _Sure, Katara,_ she chastised herself, _maybe he’s just a murderer because murder was his only choice_.  Still… what if some part of him really did not want to hurt her?

She ran her fingers along the cool ivory resting on her collar bone once again.

“By the way,” she added after a moment, pausing until his eyes drifted back to hers.  “Thank you… for returning it to me.”

He did not respond right away.  A gophersquirrel rustled a patch of dry leaves near the edge of the clearing, emerging with a mouthful of acorns threatening to burst from its chubby cheeks, pausing briefly to inspect them before scurrying up the trunk of a nearby tree. 

“Don’t you find it rather exhausting?” Ozai said at length, choosing to disregard her newfound gratitude.  “Expending unnecessary energy longing for the past, mourning for something that cannot be changed?  It’s much easier to detach yourself from those you love to avoid such inevitable pain.”

 “How could it be easier?”  The very idea of such an existence was heartrending to her.  “Life without love would be far more painful.  Even in mourning, there’s still joy in the memories you have.”  Her eyes darted across his face, searching for something behind that solemn guise.

“Hmph,” he scoffed.  But his features were not hardened as he would have her think.  Sure, the displeasure was painted across his creased forehead, as though he was trying to make sense of her perspective.  But his downward eyes were melancholy, almost defeated, fraught with a lifetime of sorrow and strife. 

For just a moment, she caught a faint glimpse behind the stone curtain, his callous façade dwindling with the afternoon sun.  Behind that merciless tyrant was a sad, lonely man who took a father’s rejection to heart and sacrificed everything just to prove that he was worth someone’s trouble.  But in the process, he had forsaken those who could have truly loved him, who could have filled that void, if he had only let them.  And in the end, what began as a desperate display of self-worth became an obsession with power and control that ultimately destroyed himself and the people closest to him.  If he could have seen past his father’s disapproval and let others in who were yearning, crying out, for him to accept their love with no strings attached – would things have been different?  Would Zuko – would the world – have turned out differently?

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai gazed at the waterbender sprawled out on the ground, an expression so perplexingly peaceful, yet sad, upon her face that for a moment she appeared almost otherworldly.  The way her arms rested so carefree out at her sides smoothed his brow for a moment.  There was something endearing about her at times, about her lack of pretension, he would admit that much.

_“Life without love would be far more painful…”_

Ozai’s jaw tightened at the words.  Endearing up to a point, he corrected himself.  What did that girl know about life and love?  She was pitifully naïve.  Of course she would believe such things, having no inkling of what it was like when a life without love is your only choice.  When sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.

Ursa’s face flickered in his memory, her tender eyes searing his heart, and just as quickly vanished like a vapor in the wind.  She had loved him.  Right down to the moment of their final gaze.  Why, he could never know.  True, he had loved her back in the beginning, when things were simpler.  But it had been a fool’s love, and he had always been a pragmatic man, his ideology and motivations always first in order.  He supposed she had just hoped she could change him one day.  She was wrong.

The face of his past love faded away, replaced by the sad sapphire eyes that were now locked on his own, glimmering with needless compassion.  He tightened his fists, his fingernails biting into his palms.  Why was she looking at him that way?

“Don’t waste your pretty sympathy,” he said, turning his eyes away.  Somehow, the words came out far less caustic than he had intended.  “I have no need of it.”

“What makes you think I’m wasting it?” she responded, her eyebrows drawn up like an innocent gazelle rabbit.  “I honestly pit you.  I think you’ve lost more than you’ve let yourself believe.  And I think you know it, too.  You said before that you married for love.  If that’s true, then there was a part of you, however deeply buried, that believed it was worth a chance – and knows just how much you lost.  There was something in that moment when you fell in love that told you that she – that love – was worth the risk.”

“You… are out of line, peasant,” he growled, pushing himself off the ground in one heated motion and taking several fervent steps away from her, his back toward the brazen girl.  His posture was rigid, his eyes narrowed, as he struggled to contain the fire that was rapidly growing inside him.  If he had to listen to one more word of this impudent outburst…

“And it tells me something else.”  She mirrored his movement as she rose to her feet, continuing in blatant disregard.  “Your wife – Ursa was her name, wasn’t it?”

His eyes snapped open at the mention of that bittersweet name, spinning around and cutting her through with the daggers in his glare.  “How dare you speak her name to me _?_!”

“It tells me she saw something in you too – if just for a fleeting moment – that drew her to you, that she deemed good and worthy of her affections.  She was willing to make herself open and vulnerable to you because she trusted you with her heart.  Isn’t there a part of you that yearns to have that back?”

He ground his teeth together, his nostrils flaring.  He never should have told her any of that.  “I’m warning you, girl,” he snarled, taking great care to utter every word as slowly and with as much foreboding as possible.  “Another word and –”

“Your failure to object says everything I already know.”

That was it.  She had already crossed the line but now she was dancing around it, taunting him.  He had extended more chances for her to back down than he should have, which was more than he could say for most of the unfortunate souls who crossed him.

Ozai’s hand shot out and grasped her by the shoulder of her dress, wheeling her around and pinning her forcefully against a nearby tree so that her feet were scarcely touching the ground.  A gasp of alarm escaped the girl as her back made contact with a dull thud.  He placed a strong grasp on both of her shoulders, making it impossible for her to struggle free.

“You forget your place, peasant!” he hissed in a gravelly voice, leaning his weight against her.  “Or have you so quickly forgotten who I am?  I would be happy to refresh your memory, although I rather doubt you’d find the experience a pleasant one.  If that’s not what you want, I strongly advise you to remember –” he paused and leaned in closer.  “Without delay,” he growled with exaggerated clarity, his clawed hands wringing her shoulders with the words, “or the next of these insolent rants will be your last.”

The audacity of that water wench to speak such an intimate name to him, to think she could dissect his deepest and most private demons…  A part of him was screaming to put her in her place right now, teach her a lesson she would never forget as he had to so many others before.  But there was something about the way those cerulean eyes stared at him, the boldness of the words she had uttered, the purity in her worldview that reluctantly stayed his hand.  Why couldn’t he do it?

His rapid breathing began to slow as he willed the wildfire within him to recede.  He reminded himself of the big picture and his overarching goal.  It was getting closer every day.  If he wanted her to trust him, this was not the way to do it.  Damn his unruly temper.

It was not until his anger began to dissipate that he realized how closely he had been leaning in to the girl.  His nose was inches from hers.  He could see the shades of indigo and periwinkle and even flecks of violet that he had never noticed in her blue irises, her eyes darting back and forth anxiously as they studied his face.  She smelled like an odd mix of water lilies and desert rain, reminding him vaguely of childhood summers spent at the beach house.  Quickly he shoved the memory back.  Memories made him feel, and he did not like feeling.  Feeling weakened you, had the power to break you.  And he would never succumb to such a corruptible place.  Never again.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai relaxed his grip on Katara’s shoulders as he stepped back and released a long, ragged sigh.  But in her consternation she had forgotten that he had been holding her semi-suspended from the ground.  Her feet landed awkwardly over the tree’s gnarly roots as they made contact with the earth, and even as she tried desperately to right herself, she knew it was too late.  The world around her seemed to spin in slow motion and helplessly she felt herself stagger forward, falling straight into Ozai’s chest, her hands clutching onto his arms that he had reflexively brought up in an unintended embrace.

The awkward moment she had so narrowly avoided earlier had been saving itself for this very occasion, mocking her now with no respite. 

For a moment Katara was frozen.  Her mind was screaming for her to yank herself away but she was unable to move, her heart pounding against her chest.  When he too failed to recoil, all she could manage to do was swallow hard and lift her widened eyes as she braced herself for his reaction.  A cold tingle nipped at her stomach as an unexpected smirk turned up a corner of his mouth.

 “Am I that magnetic,” he sneered, “or are you this desperate?  Perhaps all this talk of love is a mask for insufficiency.  Is my failure of a son not satisfying you?”

Katara’s jaw nearly unhinged as her entire body cringed.  That was all it took to break her from her stupor.  With as much force as she could muster, she wrenched herself from Ozai’s arms with a disgusted snort and put several paces between them, her brows knitting together in a revolted glower.

“Ugh!  You are the most vile, despicable–!”  Her words began to sputter, falling short on her flustered lips.  There were no words in the world terrible enough for what she wanted to call him.  “It was an accident, and you know it!  If my feet had been touching the ground, it wouldn’t have happened at all.”

 “Of course.  If you say so.”

Her teeth ground together, her fists clenched and quivering.  “I _do_ say so!  I can’t believe –!”

“You’re blushing.”

Her severed words caught in her throat as she choked back a gasp.  Was she?  A glint of dread flickered in her eyes as she realized to her horror that he was right.

“Only because you’re so infuriating!” she barked back, desperate to play it off.  But even to her own ears her defense fell flat, unconvincing.  Gods, what was the matter with her?

“In my experience, excessive denial is a feeble attempt to camouflage one’s guilt.”

“Aaghh!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air and pacing away from him.  “I’m _through_ with this conversation!”

“Well, that’s good because I doubt the dying sun will wait for you to confess the truth.”  Ozai smirked as he slipped in one last jeer.  The blush on her face deepened; she fought the urge to scream, crossing her arms in a huff.   That arrogant smirk, his self-superior attitude, his entire countenance made her blood boil.  His ability to exasperate her was seemingly boundless.

“It’s getting late,” he continued, finally disowning his sardonic tone.  “Therefore, we need to take advantage of what remaining daylight we have.  We’ll keep following the river and set up camp at nightfall.”

Katara glowered at the ground, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, refusing to turn her face back to his.  What had she been thinking?  Of course he would never allow her to unearth everything he had long since locked away and buried so deeply without instead shifting the conversation to humiliate her.  How _stupid_ could she be – to think she could resuscitate some ounce of goodness in him by bringing those memories to the surface?

With as much pride as she could muster, she stomped over to her pile of supplies, wanting nothing more than to crawl into her sleeping mat and bury her reddened face.  This could not be happening.  She recognized all the telltale signs and symptoms, but… it just could not be true.  Not here.  Not _him_.  Perhaps it was the northern Earth Kingdom air or the river water they had been drinking.  It could be the falling temperatures or the excess of almonds and dried fruits she had been living on.  There had to be some way to explain this bizarre plague of horrific feelings that had taken hold of her.

She knelt down next to the heap of baggage, began gathering her things.  She blinked away the stinging mist that was now clouding her eyes.  What was she becoming?  _Aang,_ she pleaded.  _I’m sor–_   She stopped; something inside her told her he was not listening.  His ears were closed to her.  Days had passed, and still no sign of a search.  Had he closed his heart to her too?

Her stomach sank.  Could Ozai be right?  Could Aang have truly turned his back on her?  What if he had convinced the others to do the same?

 _Zuko…_ she whispered, a single tear escaping down her cheek.  _Save me, please.  Before it’s too late._


	15. Chapter 15

Zuko fanned the smoke away from his face, so thick his hand seemed to cut through it like a knife.  Beside him Suki coughed while Sokka and Hakoda stifled a sickened groan. 

“This is, uh, quite a place,” Hakoda simpered, nearly choking over the words.

Zuko did not respond.  The smoke hung heavily, permeating the room, forcing him to squint as he scanned his eyes over the grimy scene.  Slowly he took the lead, weaving his way through drunken scuffles and overturned bar chairs toward the back of the tavern. 

There she was.  In the far right corner, surrounded by a swarm of barking, angry men.  A drink in one hand, the poor chumps’ shriveling hearts in the other as she shoveled yet another hefty reward onto her substantial mountain of coins.  Her signature smoky makeup could not hide that predatory glint in her eyes.

Jun.

“Do you girls give up yet?” she taunted.  “Or would you rather just empty the rest of your wallets right now?”

A surge of livid shouts and murmurs broke out amongst the men, some growling idle threats at the woman, others egging each other on to rise to the challenge, but none of them seemed eager to back up their own words with what remained of their meager fortunes.

“No one?” she repeated, eyeing the men with a smug grin.  “What a shame.  I was hoping to make enough to pay all your mothers for the favors they offered me tonight.  I guess this will just have to do.”

“Jun,” Zuko called over the heated uproar, hidden by a wall of gritty, sweaty backs.  The men turned their heads and stepped aside, the ruckus dying down as surprised whispers of _Fire Lord_ hissed through the crowd.

“Ugh, you again?   Don’t you have better things to be doing?  Like running a nation, perhaps?”

“I need your help.”

“If it involves one your creepy grandpa’s smelly shoes again, you can count me out,” she said as she began shoveling the coins into a leather satchel.  The crowd around them began to disperse, the drunken saps stumbling on to find the next hollow distraction.

 “He’s my _uncle_.  And it’s not him I’m looking for.”

Jun paused for a moment, shifting her gaze past Zuko to skim the other faces standing behind him.

“I see your girlfriend’s not here.  She run off on you again?”

Zuko tensed slightly and glanced at Hakoda from the corner of his eye.

“She’s been kidnapped.”

“Well, at least you’re not in denial over her anymore.  Honestly, I could see through you two like glass on a sunny day.”

“Listen, I don’t have time for this!  She’s in a very dangerous hostage situation.  You may have heard about the Capital City Prison break, that former Fire Lord Ozai has escaped…”

Her smirk faded slightly, dropping her gaze down to the craggy wooden table.  She finished scraping up the last of her reward as he continued.

“You have to help us.  We’re running out of time.  And there’s no one else who can track people down with your kind of speed.  It’s not only about finding Katara – we’ve got to stop my father before he does something terrible and thrusts the world into chaos again.”

Jun tied her satchel shut turned to him with an atypically sincere expression.  “I wish I _could_ help you.  I honestly do.  But my baby, Nyla, is dead.  She was killed a few months ago while on a job.  Without her… I’m afraid I’m not much use to you.  I’m sorry.”

Despair sunk his heart like a ball of lead.  Jun was their last hope of a timely rescue; without her, it would be nothing but a guessing game and they could not afford that.  They would never find them in time.

“But,” Jun added, yielding to the anguish on his face, “there is someone I know who may be able to help you.  She lives just over the hill here to the north.  Seems I’m about finished here anyway.  I’ll take you to her if you want.”

“Yes.  Please.  Anything you think might help.”

o          o          o

Dusk was beginning its somber descent, trading the sky’s pinks and oranges for darker hues of purple and blue, as they left the tavern and followed Jun up and finally over a steeply climbing hill.

The lonely, decrepit cabin was nestled at the foot of the hill just outside a vast expanse of trees.  Judging from its exterior, it hardly seemed possible that anyone could be living there.  The thatched roof was falling away in places, the logs that made up the house were beginning to rot, and the tall grass at its base reached up to over half its height, engulfing it like the spindly tentacles of a centipus trying to swallow it whole.

They arrived at the front door and Jun knocked her fist against the splintering wood with unrestrained vigor.  How the door had managed to stay on its brittle, rusting hinges as long as it had, Zuko had no idea.

“Who’s there?” came a muffled female voice from inside.

“A friend,” Jun answered back.

A short pause, then shuffling footsteps, the unbolting of multiple locks, and finally the door opened just wide enough for a pair of eyes to peek through.

“Jun?”

“Hi, Genshi.”

“What are you doing here?”  The eyes drifted past the bounty hunter to the unfamiliar faces behind her.  Without waiting for an answer, she asked, “Who are they?”

“Just some friends.  Can we come in?” 

The pair of eyes blinked hesitantly.  The door did not budge.

“Don’t worry, you can trust them,” Jun added in answer to the unspoken question. 

A momentary pause, and then the door slowly creaked open, revealing a shabby interior bathed in modest candlelight and scattered with a vast assortment of odds and ends.  Books, pots and pans, papers, half-eaten food, gadgets and trinkets for who-knows-what.  And in the center of it all stood what appeared to Zuko as the unlikeliest of people to lay claim to such an abode.  She was tall and slender, fair-skinned, with long raven hair and green hazel eyes.  She was young, attractive, probably in her late twenties if he had to guess, though there was a world-weariness in her eyes that suggested she could have been older.

“Genshi, allow me to introduce Fire Lord Zuko.”

“Uh, hi there,” Zuko nodded politely, shifting bashfully as the girl’s mouth gaped open.  Knowing Jun was likely ignorant of the others’ names, he quickly took the initiative, anxious to shirk the attention.  “And this is Suki, Sokka, and his father Hakoda, Chief of the Northern Water Tribe,” he said, gesturing toward them.

“It’s an honor to meet you in person, Fire Lord,” Genshi bowed meekly.  “And you, Chief.  All of you.  But…” her voice trailed off as she turned back to the bounty hunter, “I don’t mean to be rude, Jun, but… is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we’re here.  We need your help.  Or rather, _they_ need your help.  They need to find someone and they’re rather crunched for time.  The first person who came to my mind of course was you.”

Jun stared at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for the implicit question to sink in, an entire unspoken conversation passing between the two women.  A wave of recognition washed over Genshi’s face followed quickly by an undertow of dread.

“No, Jun.  Absolutely not.  You know I gave that up a long time ago.  Don’t ask me to do it again.”

“Wait, Genshi, just hear them out.  Then, if you’re still so opposed to it, you can kick us to the curb and we won’t bother you again.”

Zuko glanced nervously at Jun.  What was she doing?  He hoped it was just part of her plan, that she would not walk away as easily as that.  Knowing Jun, he could not be so sure.

Genshi slumped her shoulders in resignation, folding her arms over her chest.  “Fine.  I’m listening.”

Jun nodded to Zuko; he took the cue, clearing his throat.  As concisely as possible, he explained everything she needed to know about the situation and the stakes they were up against, still not sure how the girl would play into any of it.

As Zuko finished, Jun wasted no time in seizing the conversation again.  “You see, Genshi…” she lilted, like a mother trying to encourage her timid child.  It seemed incredibly counterfeit and unbefitting of her, but Genshi did not seem to notice.  “You may be the only one capable of helping them.  If Ozai isn’t stopped soon, before it’s too late, there’s no telling what could happen.  Can you really live with something of that magnitude on your conscience for the rest of your life?”

The young woman faltered for a moment, then rolled her eyes and heaved an embellished sigh.  “Ugghh, damn you, Jun.  All I ever wanted was a life of peace and quiet.  A life of normalcy.  Is that too much to ask?”

So that was her plan, Zuko thought.  Bait and switch.

“What is it you do exactly?” Suki chimed in, speaking for everyone’s curiosity.

“She’s a conjurer,” Jun stated.

“ _Was_ a conjurer,” Genshi quickly corrected her.

“One of the last known to exist.  She has a special ability that allows her to see into one’s thoughts to conjure a vision of the unknown, relative to those thoughts.  In the case of Pouty’s girlfriend, she might be able to use an image of the girl in his mind to conjure a vision of her now – her welfare, surroundings, and maybe even the general direction in which find her.”

“Are you serious _?_!” Sokka exclaimed.  “What are we waiting for?”

“Hold on a second, not so fast.  Jun may be right,” Genshi interjected, shooting a quick glare at the bounty hunter, “but there are some things I should tell you before you get too excited.  First of all, I haven’t done anything like this in… _years_.  It’s possible that my abilities have weakened past the point of usefulness.”

Jun crossed her arms and tilted her head in a condescending smirk that said, _I’m not buying it._   With another labored sigh, Genshi continued.

“Secondly, even if I am able to help, I won’t be able to tell you her exact location.  All I can see are the immediate surroundings, and sense in which direction to go from here.  The people themselves are usually blurs, but I can see their auras which can tell me their state of body and mind.  But you see, there are many limitations to my abilities.  You may want to reconsider staking all your chances on me.  I can’t guarantee you anything.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the four travelers exchanging questioning glances.  Finally Zuko turned to back Genshi.  “You’re still the best chance we have,” he said.  “It would be far worse not to try it – to try anything – at this point.”  He paused, searching her face for acquiescence.  “So… will you help us?”

Genshi closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “All right,” she conceded, shaking her head in spite of herself.  “I’ll do what I can.  But first things first.  We need to see if I can even call myself a conjurer anymore.”  She took a step toward Zuko and held up her hands toward his face.  “Fire Lord, if I may…”

Zuko tilted his head forward, the girl’s fingertips coming to rest on both of his temples.

“I need you to think about her.  As clearly and with as much detail as you possibly can.  The more vivid your thoughts, the more accurate the vision will be.”

He inhaled slowly and deeply, clearing his mind of all thoughts but one:  Katara.

“When I conjure the vision, both you and I will see the same thing at the same time.  I must warn you though that it can be quite exhausting, both physically and mentally.  Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure.”  He had never been more sure.  About anything.  Whatever it took – even if it was his dying breath – he would find her.

Genshi closed her eyes, her brows furrowed in concentration.  Several moments passed but nothing happened.  He felt nothing.  Saw nothing.  He was beginning to think that perhaps she had lost her power after all when a sudden surge of energy coursed through his body, at once refreshingly cool and blisteringly hot, exhilarating and painful both.  His head began pounding, inundated by a strange white void spreading through his mind like a fever.  Behind that, an ear-splitting groan was mounting like a hundred wailing banshees, louder and louder until he thought his ears were going to bleed.

A throaty grunt of pain escaped through his clenched teeth.  His limbs were growing heavy and against his will Zuko’s knees buckled underneath him, dropping his exhausted body to the floor.  But for a brief instant, he saw it.

A flash of golden trees, a glistening river.  And then a fleeting glimpse, a familiar form.  Faint and hazy, like looking through a fogged window.  His heart leapt in his chest.

Katara.


	16. Chapter 16

Zuko shivered in the grey of pre-dawn, the chill of the early morning fog seeping through what he thought would have been sufficient layers of clothing for this time of year.  He wondered if it was just him, but he was sure he had seen the discomfort on the others’ faces too.

The ostrich-horses’ feet padded swiftly along the forest trail, hushed by a seemingly endless bed of pine needles, amplifying the silence that surrounded them.  The troupe had scarcely spoken a word since they had started out, just before the first hints of daylight had crept into the indigo sky.  A sleepless night, nerves awry, the cold, damp air.  The situation was hardly conducive for making conversation.  But the silence was beginning to unravel him.   It was enough knowing that Katara was out there and that there was only so much headway they could make toward her on foot per day.  At least there were the ostrich-horses.

Up above, a sparrowkeet warbled its first morning greeting, eager to usher in a new day.  For the first time all morning, the silence was momentarily broken.  This seemed to give Zuko the push he needed to follow suit and without thinking, he uttered, “So, Genshi.  Why is it that you gave up conjuring?”

Why he had chosen those to be his first words, he was not sure.  Though it was a question he realized had been nagging him since they had met the mysterious conjurer.  They were counting on this ability of hers to rescue Katara and she had appeared so distraught over the prospect of taking it back up; he could not help but wonder what kind of traumatic thing had happened to make her run in the other direction.  But the awkwardness of the question began to dawn on him as the silence seemed to magnify around them.  It was a tactless, invasive question, he realized, and not really any of his business.  _Ugh, why am I so clumsy when it comes to communication?_

In an attempt to lessen the discomfort, Suki cleared her throat gently.  “Umm, Zuko, maybe that’s not something that Genshi wants to –”

“It’s okay,” Genshi interrupted. 

Surprised, all eyes turned toward the young woman.

“It’s not something I like to remember.  Something I’ve tried not to think about for years.  But I suppose you deserve an explanation.”

Genshi finally began to unfold her story for them, the pieces of her puzzling character beginning to fit together.  Many years ago, a sect of the Earth Kingdom’s government known as the Tanwu had been put into place by the Earth King, assigned with the task of overseeing the great nation to maintain peace.  Each member was assigned to different districts in the Kingdom.  But as the years passed, the Tanwu became arrogant and began to abuse its power, as so often happens. 

About ten years ago, there was a very small movement amongst conjurers who saw the government’s growing thirst for power.  Some even wished to see anarchy rule the kingdom and aimed to use their power to see it through.  These people would receive aid in the form of visions from individuals who had knowledge that was useful to their mission and who also opposed the sect’s growing power.  Their visions would often reveal critical information privy to only government officials and their families.  They intended to wipe out the corrupt sect along with much of the government’s power.

Somehow, word of this movement’s plans were leaked to the sect.  Of course the Tanwu fought back with full force, labeling conjuring as a dark art and vowing to annihilate the heathen practice for good.  In other words, they saw the power the conjurers were capable of and it terrified them.  They labeled _all_ conjurers as wielders of dark magic and imposed laws against its practice, vowing whatever force necessary.  What they did not expect was the fierce resistance with which the conjurers pushed back, refusing to be demonized and oppressed due to a select few.  But the Tanwu would not listen and soon the resistance turned violent.

Genshi got swept up in the passion of it all and joined the revolt.  She was known amongst the conjurers as one of the most proficient, especially for her age.  A prodigy, she was called.  One night her village and the surrounding towns were raided by the Tanwu and their supporters, invading homes and threatening the lives of any households, families, or individuals harboring conjurers.  Some houses were left unharmed if it was certain there were no conjurers present.  But if there was any doubt, suspects were taken prisoner for interrogation.  But for some homes like Genshi’s, they were already aware of a conjurer living there.  When they kicked down the door of her house, they demanded to know which of them was the conjurer.  Genshi was about to speak up to protect the rest of her family when her little brother stood up and declared that he was the one they wanted.  Genshi screamed and cried in protest, but they were already dragging him out the door.

The next day, word was circulating in the village that the conjurers had not been taken prisoner for interrogation.  They had been put to death that night in the cover of darkness.  Genshi completely broke down at the news.  She had been so close to her beloved little brother.  After that day, Genshi lost the will to live.  She had no desire to eat or drink, or to see anyone.  She nearly passed away of a broken heart.

When the public got word of the atrocity carried out by a governmental sect devoted to “keeping the peace”, there was a strong outcry and the Earth King quickly disbanded the Tanwu.  But it was too late.  Eventually it was forgotten.  Their cries became silent again and things returned to normal.  But not for Genshi.  She was convinced that it was her fault her brother had died and that she could never forgive herself. 

“So that’s why I vowed to completely abandon conjuring forever.”

“That also explains why you’re one of the last known surviving conjurers.  Why you choose to live in secret.”

“Yes.”

“Genshi…” Zuko faltered.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know –”

“It’s all right, my Lord.  No harm done.”  She smiled at him with that quiet, doe-like smile of hers and turned away.  “Besides, I get to use my power now for good, to help you.  And maybe somehow, this will rectify what happened to my brother.  Vindicate his death in some way.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Genshi.  Your brother would be proud of you.”

Genshi remained silent, but smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The trees stood uncannily still in the chill of dawn’s first light, sculptures in a living museum where even the leaves dared not to fall.  Toph rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up in Appa’s saddle with a groan, wrapping the elephantmoose-skin blanket tighter around her shoulders.  The quiet surrounding them was heavy, all-encompassing, disturbed only by a seldom, faint trickling of the nearby stream.  It descended upon her like a vacuum, a suffocating cloud of nothingness.  She suddenly felt more alone in that moment than in all her years spent hiding as the Blind Bandit.

Toph stood up and took in a deep breath, trying to fend off the solitude tightening her chest.  She could not let it shake her focus.  She jumped down from the saddle, the cool, dank earth and rotting leaves griming her feet as she ambled over to where the young Avatar still sat motionless.  It had been three days and the ground around him continued to radiate with that same eerily tranquil vibe.  No sign of change; no hint of life save for the faint, languid pulse of his heartbeat.

She had spent most of her waking hours the past three days scouring the areas surrounding their campsite on foot, extending her search radius as much as she could each day.  But it had turned up nothing.  No clues, no leads.  Something had to give.

Toph crouched down in front of Aang and studied his face for several minutes, as though somehow she could draw him back to her world, back to wakefulness.  She waved a hand in front of his eyes. 

“Hello _?_!” she called out.  His eyelids were heavy as stone; not so much as an eyelash flinched at her intrusion.  Her hand began waving more vigorously with every unresponsive moment.  “What are you _doing_ in there, Twinkle Toes _?_!  You’ll have to resume your little tea party with Avatar Roku, or whatever it is you’re doing, some other time.  I’m through waiting on you.  Do you hear me?”

Of course she knew he didn’t.  With a frustrated sigh, she pushed off her knees and stood up, her hands on her hips as she turned her head toward a lounging Appa and then back at Aang.  They had lost so much time.  What if they were already too late?  There was only one thing left to do.

“Fine.  You’ve given me no choice.  If you’re not gonna move your lazy butt then I’ll just have to do it for you.”

Wrapping her arms around his stomach, she heaved the airbender up and over her shoulder, staggering back under the dead weight, and began lumbering over to where Appa was still lying half asleep.  She knew it was risky moving Aang’s body while he was in the spirit world.  It could be difficult for him to find his way back and they were counting on him.  They needed him.  It could complicate things, make them worse, but right now it was the best option as far as she could see; the lesser of two shitty dilemmas.

After heaving Aang’s comatose body into the saddle, Toph walked around to the bison’s head and gently tugged on the reigns.

“Come on, Appa.  Let’s move.”

The bison rose to his feet and stretched with a dissenting groan, following behind as Toph clutched the reigns and began leading the way through the forest once again. 

What she would not give for the rest of her friends to be here.  She was not sure she could deal with this Aang problem on her own.  The way he had been acting since the Katara-Zuko situation – it was unnervingly atypical of him.  And now going into the spirit world with no indication of reemerging any time soon…  She was beginning to fear that something much more troubling was going on with Aang than she had first thought.  Something on a much deeper and more sinister level, beyond just the emotional.  Almost like he was transforming into an entirely different person. 

She wanted to tell herself that she knew better, that it was crazy, but she was not so sure that it was.  Crazier things had happened.  And if something of that nature was going on, that would not bode well for them.  Or for the rest of the world. 

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai leaned back against the body of a broad, towering tree, eyes closed, drumming his fingers against the coarse bark.  His brows were pinched together, a ragged sigh escaping his lips.  Somewhere close behind him he could hear the occasional swishing and splashing of water.  The girl had begun pestering him to stop just long enough for her to wash in the river, eventually plaguing him with requests and grumbles to no end that he relented merely to keep him from drowning her himself.

It was a nuisance to stop for something so frivolous.  Especially in light of the nagging concern that was creeping upon him, whispering of wrong turns and lost time.  With the map swallowed in the shipwreck, he was relying on instinct alone.  And he was beginning to fear that it may not be enough.  But there was another part of the game that he had to consider now.  Conceding to the girl’s harmless, albeit annoying requests now and then would appease her and perhaps help her to trust him.  It was a small sacrifice to make for the greater good.

“Are you finished over there, water girl?” he called over his shoulder.

There was a short pause before he heard her call back, “Just a few more minutes.”

Ozai stifled a growl.  It was “a few more minutes” a few minutes ago.  Why did this girl always seem bent on trying his patience?

“I’m afraid my leniency has run its course.  Get out.”

The only reply came in the form of silence mingled with the muted sounds of the forest.  The whine of a mosquito-wasp in his ear, the creaking of nearby trees.

“Waterbender,” he shouted more forcefully.  It was more of a command than a question.

More splashing water.  A heat wave began coursing through his body as his agitation mounted.  Whatever made her think that such insolence would be tolerated, he would take care of that now.  He clenched his jaw and peered around the side of the tree, readying himself to storm out from behind it when he stopped short.  The girl was emerging from the river, her chocolate skin glistening in the dappled sunlight, all but bare if not for her meager bindings.  Appalled, he felt himself frozen in place as he watched the girl swat the water from her body with a flick of her wrists.

A pit began forming itself in his stomach.  No, he would not allow this.  He would not be reduced to such a state, gaping at a peasant girl like some star-struck fool.  But his body betrayed him, refusing his commands to flee, his eyes remaining transfixed on the partially exposed girl who was now donning her garments she had left folded on a nearby rock. 

For the love of Agni, why couldn’t he look away _?_!  It was not as though he harbored any kind of attraction for the waterbender.  The mere idea of it was laughable, absurd…

His thoughts were cut off as the girl spun around and began making her way back toward his direction.  Whatever force had held him there against his will finally released him as the threat of discovery grew near.  Without wasting a moment, he quickly pushed himself back around the tree as quietly as possible, leaning back against its trunk once again.  He closed his eyes, his brows knit in vexation, and exhaled a ragged sigh of relief.  Whatever madness had come over him, whatever sly games the spirits were playing with him, he would be sure to vanquish that here and now.  Nothing, not even Agni himself, would stand in the way of his plans.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The distant call of a nighthawk peeked through the fog of a restless sleep.  It was getting closer to a full moon.  Katara could almost never sleep on the night of a full moon, but even in the days leading up to it she often found herself drifting in and out of a shallow, faltering slumber.  It was the one thing about being a waterbender that she ever truly hated.

She rolled onto her back with a sigh, gazing up through the increasingly meager leaves at the pale orb leering at her from its black abyss.  It was no use trying to fight wakefulness at this point.  It was a losing battle almost every time.  With another small sigh she turned her head toward Ozai; a pang of envy swept over her at the deep sleep he appeared to be lost within.

As Katara’s eyes wandered over Ozai’s slumbering form, she found herself slightly taken aback at how unagitated – almost peaceful – the fearsome man looked beneath the guise of sleep.  The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest was strangely hypnotic.  Slowly and quietly she sat up, propping herself up on an elbow.  Her eyes brushed over his face, studying him for several moments; in the quiet, secrecy of night she placed aside her guilt and fears for a moment and allowed herself the freedom to admit – fully and without reservations – how truly striking the man was.  How at odds his looks were with his character.

Her heart fluttered gently.  A sudden and inexplicable urge to touch him crashed over her, mesmerizing her, pulling her in deeper the more she tried to resist it, like a moth to a flame.  Against her better judgment, she felt her hand reach out slowly, her fingertips nearly grazing his arm.  For a moment she hesitated, listening intently for any sign of consciousness.  His breathing was slow and steady, inundated by sleep.  That was sufficient reassurance for her to push through her dithering conscience.  Her fingers splayed out in caution as she placed her hand, tentatively and delicately, upon his strong shoulder, taking in his features.  There was that scent again – musky and bright, smoldering firewood.  She lightly skimmed her hand down to rest on his bicep, her pulse racing.

In that moment, she knew she had already committed treason in her heart.  Or perhaps it was not so much treasonous as it was daring.  Or perhaps it was both.  Either one could happen without much foresight, in the blink of an eye, unwittingly rehearsed in the silent darkness of one’s own heart.  In such silence it waits, ambushing the victim just when it’s too late to turn back.

Ozai’s arm was large and powerfully built, nothing but hardened muscle, the product of years of dedicated training.  Her heart fluttered again; she had never been so close to him before – at least not willingly.  She felt brave in the dark now.  It was oddly exhilarating, touching so tenderly a normally guarded and dangerous man now made vulnerable by sleep, like reaching out to caress a sleeping scorpion tiger, beautiful yet deadly, unaware of her advances.

“What do you think you’re doing, girl?” 

Katara froze, that deep, sultry voice shattering her reverie.  To her utter mortification, she looked up to see that his eyes were opened in slits as he gazed down at her. 

_Oh, spirits!  Oh, gods!_

She floundered for words, struggling through the cobwebs of her horror-stricken mind to find some excuse, some convincing defense.  But all she could come up with was an unintelligible, barely audible squeak.  Without warning, his hand shot up and wrapped around her wrist, inadvertently pulling her a bit closer.  He cocked a quizzical eyebrow and turned his head to her, smirking a question to which she feared he already knew the answer.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me it’s not what it looks like.”

“No, it’s not!  Honestly!” she croaked out a lie.

“Really?  And you expect me to believe that?”  A silky chuckle rose from deep with his chest.  “No, I won’t insult your meager intelligence by pretending that I do.”

What on earth had come over her to make her do something so incredibly stupid?  Gods only knew what he might be thinking now.  Oh, what she would give for a nice, welcoming grave to bury herself in.

His hold on her wrist softened just slightly as his features became serious, his eyes cutting into her, a corner of his mouth turned up in a hint of a solemn smirk.

“Tread lightly, girl.  You risk opening a door that cannot be so easily closed, the consequences unexpected and volatile.  But if there’s something you’d like to tell me, by all means go ahead.”

Katara fought for breath.  Her chest felt tight, her tongue like chalk.  She had hoped to be able to pull the wool over his eyes, if just narrowly.  She hadn’t expected him to cut through her lies like a knife to butter, to call her out so directly.  “No, I…”

“No?  Then I think you know what I’m getting at.  I’m not going to say anything more.  Now get some sleep in while you can.  At the first light of dusk, we move.”

Ozai released her wrist from his hand and turned away from her without another word.  Katara rolled slowly onto her back, her breathing choppy and irregular.  She squeezed her eyes shut and brought a hand up to her chest as though to clutch her racing heart.  The door Ozai had alluded to – she was afraid she had already opened it.  Passed the point of no return and thrown away the key.  Was there any part of the girl she knew that was salvageable now? 

As her mind drifted in and out of sleep once again, one word brushed upon her lips in a trace of a whisper.

_Zuko…_


	17. Chapter 17

It was close.  It had to be.  Surely another bend or two in the path, another couple of miles…

It was the mantra that Ozai had been repeating to himself for longer than he cared to admit.  There had been nothing but thick forest and underbrush for days.  Not a substantial stone or boulder in sight, and certainly not any rock formation that resembled a jackal wolf.  The map had explicitly noted this landmark, citing him to make a sharp turn off the path at this point and continue into the forest until he reached a small, flat boulder that resembled a gravestone.  On this stone was engraved an inscription in the same archaic language he had become familiar with years ago.  It was one of the only things that had served to keep this artifact safe and hidden these many years. 

If he remembered correctly…

The storm clouds in the distance were growing heavy, grumbling an imminent warning and reaching toward the earth to smother autumn’s proud treetops.

What if he had gone too far?  Or worse, what if he had strayed in the wrong direction?  There would be no hope of salvaging his bearings then.  Not in this labyrinth of a forest.  He had been relying on instinct and whatever mental image of the map he had retained.  By no means a reliable formula, not entirely.  There was too much room for error; error that he could not afford.

_Damn the spirits._

Another thunderous growl rumbled overhead, markedly closer this time.  _Let the skies do their worst_ , he challenged, scowling at the heavens. 

“Maybe we should stop, find some shelter,” came a voice from behind.  It was the first time the waterbender had spoken all morning.

Nothing except for that irksome girl, he corrected himself.

“Surely a waterbender’s not afraid of a little rain now, is she?” he mocked through diligent footsteps, not bothering to turn around.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she spat back.  “Of course I’m not.  But if the storm takes a turn for the worst–”

“We’re not stopping, girl.  That’s the end of it.  We’re pressing on through it, whatever comes.”

Silence resumed its place between them, broken only by snarls of ornery thunder.  Ozai was beginning to think that he had finally succeeded in subduing the girl when her voice shattered his focus again.

“You’re not going to get away with this.  With… whatever it is you’re planning.  Even if Aang doesn’t come for me, we both know Zuko is out there right now, tracking you down like a bloodfox.  It’s just a matter of time, and getting shorter by the hour.”

Ozai kicked a branch of dead leaves out of his path, allowing a few moments to pass before responding.  “You seem to think you know an awful lot about my son, that he’s split himself open for you, dusted off every nook and cranny of his murky past.”  He let out a condescending chuckle.  “Poor naïve girl.  It’s a shame how men like him think they can swindle and manipulate the women who love them to get what they want.”

 “What are you talking about?  Zuko’s not that kind of person.  He’s not like _you_.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.  I don’t suppose he ever told you about his little rendezvous with Mai’s friend, Ty Lee…”  The girl remained silent, prompting him to continue.   “Mai had left town to attend the funeral of a family friend.  A boy Mai used to play with as a child.  It was a sudden death, tragic for Mai and her family.  While she was gone… well, I guess you could say that Zuko and Ty Lee got… better acquainted.  _Much_ better.  Mai never did find out about it, poor girl, but I knew.”

“You’re lying,” she snapped.  “Zuko wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” he drawled, smirking at her over his shoulder.

The waterbender’s face flushed as she glowered at the ground.  “He would have at least told me if that were true,” she said, the guilt in her eyes weighing her gaze downward.

“Yes.  I’m sure it merely slipped his mind,” he said, turning his eyes forward again.  “Surely then he’s mentioned his rather embarrassing escapade with Mai’s cousin, Sora.  They were caught by Sora’s mother in a considerably suggestive position in the girl’s bedroom.  The only reason Mai never heard of it was because my son paid her family a hefty sum to keep it under wraps.  He didn’t want his engagement to Mai to be jeopardized, being that he was the crown prince and was soon expected to marry and produce an heir.”

The girl’s response came once again in the form of silence.

“You see, my son’s always been quite fond of the ladies.  I’m afraid they’re a dime a dozen as far as he’s concerned.  His royal status is an asset that he’s shown no shame in exploiting.  You’d be a fool to believe you’re the exception.  You are simply one of the many ‘other women’.”  A grumble of thunder was his only response.  “Oh, don’t fret about it, my dear.  Better you know the truth now than after it’s too late, don’t you think?”

A gust of wind crashed through the vibrant canopy overhead, tearing several leaves from their branches, as the pair of them trekked on in silence.  “I don’t believe you,” the girl managed, her voice low and harsh, but with a shakiness that betrayed her uncertainty. 

The seeds of doubt were growing.  Ozai smiled to himself.

A single drop of rain splattered against his cheek as it came into view.  No, surely it wasn’t… Yes, it had to be!   There was no mistaking its size and shape.  The way the rocks came together, they really did resemble a jackal wolf.  Finally.  He was nearly there.  So close now he could taste the sweet victory.

“This way, girl,” he said as he veered left through a thicket of brushwood into the untamed wilderness surrounding them.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The rain came down and ruined what remained of her waning optimism.  Her cloak clung heavily around her body, soaked through to her skin.  Drops of water trickled down her hood in front of her face, dripped off her nose.  In the distance the thunder grew weaker, rolling off into a lazy slumber, leaving in its wake a steady downpour of rain.  The kind of rain that seemed intent on overstaying its welcome.  Which was just fine by her.

Other women…  Was that all she was then?  The other woman? 

 _One of many_.

No.  Zuko loved her.  He did.   What they had was too real to be nothing more than a game to him.  This was just another trick, another one of Ozai’s deceptions.

But Mai… when she discovered them in that cave, she said she had known about them.  For how long?  Why was she so suspicious of Zuko so early on?  Could there possibly be truth in Ozai’s story?  It could explain why she was so quick to jump to that conclusion prior to any physical proof.  Maybe she was not so oblivious to Zuko’s extracurricular endeavors. 

Oh gods, it couldn’t be true…

A raven cried mournfully up ahead.  How many days had it been now?  At least two weeks, maybe three, though it felt like months.  For the life of her, she could not remember.  She had finally lost count.  And not the smallest sign of pursuit from anyone.  At last it was starting to sink in.  No one was coming for her. 

In a way, it made sense.  The cost of one life weighed against the potential loss of thousands, many of which were more valuable than her own, if Ozai were caught and cornered…  The decision would be clear.  Wait for him to surface and enact his plan first, then swarm him and clean up the mess later.  Easier and less collateral damage.

No, her only hope of escape now lied in herself.  It was a slim chance at best against this one-man militia, even with her bending.  But at least it was an advantage he did not have.  If she ever wanted to survive this, she would have to take that risk and fight back.

And what better chance than during a rainstorm?  _Thank you, Spirits_.

Katara took in a long, slow breath, keeping a sharp eye on the man ahead of her.  She would have only one chance; she needed to make it count.  Her fingers splayed out discreetly at her sides, raindrops fusing into ribbons of water around her hands, as she studied Ozai’s movement.  The way his feet touched down on the ground, how his head would turn now and then to confirm their solitude, trying to distinguish any kind of pattern.  His mannerisms were more erratic than she was comfortable with, but that was out of her control and time was wasting.  It was now or never.

She drew her arms back slowly, pulling in the water around her, its force building as she took one last breath.  Her arms shot forward with as much power as she could muster, sending a violent jet of water bursting forth.  A surge of defiance and then hope welled up inside her as she realized her freedom might actually be within reach.  But in that same instant, Ozai turned his head just enough to catch the attack in his peripheral vision.  Her hopes came crashing down as he leapt backward.  But his reflexes weren’t fast enough.  The water jet sliced into his side just below his ribcage, nearly knocking him off his feet as he clutched his side in agony.

Katara didn’t waste another second.  She dashed off, her feet tearing into the spongy, water logged earth.  Her mind was racing to conjure a new plan of escape.  She had been so close!  But now by she might as well have dug her own grave.   There was no telling the torturous depths Ozai might stoop to if he caught her.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She didn’t need to turn around to know that Ozai was back on his feet and rapidly gaining on her.  Where her advantage was bending, his was speed.  Katara zigzagged through the trees and crashed through a grove of underbrush, her foot nearly snagging in a net of thorns.  Her legs burned, her lungs ached as every fiber of her strength fought to get away.  The sloshing footsteps behind her grew louder and then suddenly a hand shot into her peripheral vision.  Katara ducked and swerved as Ozai lunged for her.  But his fingers caught onto the end of her hood and as he tugged her backward, his grip slipped and sent her reeling into a large tree.

Through a spinning haze Katara could see Ozai barreling toward her, his clawed hands nearly upon her again.  She thrusted herself from the tree, sending a shower of ice spikes behind her just as Ozai sprung off the tree after her. 

Her movements were frantic now, her focus waning.  Desperation was taking over.  She raised her arms and launched a wave over her shoulder.  It barely seemed to slow him down as he charged right through it.  Rain and sweat streamed into her eyes, the forest becoming a sea of brown and grey.  And then suddenly her foot caught in the crook of a concealed tree root and, as though in a nightmare, she felt her body crash to the ground.

Katara scrambled to turn over just in time to see the glint of metal in Ozai’s hand.  Panic gripped her stomach.  She scarcely had time to forge an ice shield before the dagger chiseled into it, the weight of Ozai’s body forcing the shield down upon her.  His hand reached around it and grabbed onto her shoulder, trying to pry her from underneath her barricade.  Her energy was fading quickly as she writhed and struggled against him.  She knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer.  With all her might, Katara liquefied the shield and blasted him off of her.

She pulled herself off the ground as Ozai staggered to his feet.  The two of them stood facing each other, frozen in the grey of the pouring rain, waiting on edge for the other to make the next move, separated by a mere few strides.  She was struggling for breath, her breasts rising and falling with every inhale and exhale.  But her face displayed no hint of fear, that defiant glare never veering from her face, challenging him, refusing to back down.

“You can’t beat me, girl.  Surrend–”

“I can!  And I _will_.”

The faintest hint of a smirk crept across his face, his head cocked just so, as though to say he found her so pitiful it was actually fascinating.

“Where will you run to?  Back to that half-man you people call an Avatar?  You think he’d let you just waltz on back to him?  That he’ll offer his forgiveness simply because you will him to?”  A sardonic chuckle resonated in his throat.  “Or perhaps back to your pathetic, two-timing lecher who sits on the throne?  I suppose you two deserve each other... though it’s unlikely he’ll want you back now that he’s had his fun with you.”

An emptiness began growing inside her, the truth in his words searing her heart.  She had no one to return to now.  Nowhere to go. 

Ozai must have read it in her face.

“The only place left for you is right here.  With me.  I’ve taken care of you, have I not?  I’m a man of my word, my dear.  I promised no harm would come to you if you complied, and thus you have not been harmed… _yet_.  I’m willing to forget this little slip in judgment if you come quietly.  Now.”

Maybe he was right.  Maybe this was her life now.  A fate she deserved if she were honest with herself.  There could be worse things… couldn’t there?  Being with him wasn’t all that terrible.  It was true, he hadn’t harmed her.  He needed her, so at least she would be safe for the foreseeable future…

 _Wait, what am I saying?_!  _I’m not actually considering staying with this monster!  He is a monster, remember?_

No!  No way!  She would rather waste away in the city slums than spend what remained of her life with him!  Already her mind was being poisoned by his lies.  It was either escape now or helplessly watch herself unravel before him.

Katara planted her foot into the soggy earth, leaving a muddy crater in her wake as she took off as fast as her legs could carry her, praying to the spirits for a miracle.  The next town was likely miles away; there was no telling when she might be able to find help.  The only way to escape him now was to take him out.  And the only way to do that, it seemed, was to catch him off-guard.

Quickly she spread a sheet of ice in front of her and skidded onto it.  Katara maneuvered it into a ramp, sliding full-speed in the opposite direction toward Ozai.  With only seconds to spare, a deadly ice spear had scarcely left her hand when it suddenly liquefied as Ozai’s strong hand clasped around her wrist and wrenched her down from the ramp. 

Katara cried out in pain, her knee turning awkwardly as she landed.  No!  She hadn’t been quick enough!  A weight formed in her stomach, her chest tightening.  She was as good as dead now.

Ozai forced Katara to the ground, pinning her down, his weight twisting her shoulder up and back.  She shrieked in agony as she felt it dislocate and frantically fought to bring her good arm up, hoping to heal herself quickly and put up whatever fight was left in her.  Ozai abruptly constricted her other arm, as though he could hear her thoughts, his breathing heavy and livid in her ear.

“Foolish little peasant girl.  I offered you clemency and yet you chose defiance.  You might have just made the last mistake of your life if you were of no use to me.  Count yourself lucky, for the time being.”

The weight of Ozai’s body lifted as he pushed himself off the ground.  Katara clenched her teeth and groaned in pain as he bound her hands and hoisted her over his shoulder.  Her eyes squeezed shut and she forced her mind to drift away with the hypnotic rhythm of Ozai’s footsteps.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The groans and whispers of winter were growing louder and louder from the restless earth.  What Zuko had hoped would only take a few days to locate Katara was taking far longer.  Genshi’s conjuring ability was proving rustier than he had expected.  To her credit, she had warned him.  The conjuring sessions had been painful, often agonizing, and less than productive.  She had improved slightly with each one, perhaps, but the progress was meager at best.  He was sure he wasn’t the only one beginning to second guess their decision to trust Genshi with something of this magnitude.  But what choice did they have?

Two sparrowkeets rustled the browning leaves up above, nestling together to fend off the chill in the air.  They were running out of time.

Zuko cleared his throat.  “Genshi, maybe we can try again …”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she interrupted.  “I told you my ability probably wasn’t what it used to be.”  Her voice weakened under the weight of impending tears.  “But you pressured me into it anyway.  I never wanted to do this again, and I never promised I could actually help you find –”

“Genshi,” Suki chimed in, her tone soothing and empathetic.  “It’s okay.  You were honest about the risks beforehand.  We made our decision knowing what we were going into.  It’s not your fault.”

“But Zuko’s right,” said Hakoda, as their caravan came to a slow halt.  “We can’t keep wandering about the forest chasing a vision in one direction or another that might only be partly accurate.  If the visions for Katara aren’t performing the way we need them to, maybe we should try focusing on someone else.”

“Like Aang or Toph,” Sokka piped up.

“Precisely.”

“Why would that change anything?” asked Suki.

“It might not.  But nothing else is working.  It’s worth a try.”  When the others agreed, Hakoda continued.  “Though I’m not sure it’s such a good idea for Zuko to continue being the channel for the vision.  He’s undergone enough pressure and duress under them for now and it might help the visions if he takes a break for a while.”

“I’ll do it.”  Sokka straightened up in his saddle, a look of solemn determination on his face.

“Sokka, are you sure,” Suki asked hesitantly.

“If it means getting any closer to Katara, I’ll do whatever it takes.  Genshi…” he prompted the conjurer, stepping down from his ostrich-horse.

Genshi followed suit and came to stand face to face with the young Water Tribe warrior.  She placed her fingertips on either side of his temples.

“I need you to breathe in deeply, and exhale slowly while thinking about Aang with as much clarity as you possibly can.  Are you ready?”

Sokka nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it go slowly.  His forehead creased, his brows furrowed and twitched as though enduring a series of escalating shocks.  Beads of sweat began to form on his face and suddenly he let out a growl of pain as his body slumped to the ground.

“Sokka!” Suki cried out.

“He’s okay.”  Hakoda placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s arm.

Sokka grimaced and massaged his temples, sitting up with a groan.  “Oh man, Zuko.  I feel your pain.  Literally.”

“Did you see anything?” the Fire Lord asked, ignoring his inopportune attempt at humor.

“Actually, yeah.  For a few seconds, it was really clear.  It looked like Toph was leading Appa, and Aang was just kinda slouched in Appa’s saddle.”

“Toph was leading Appa?  While Aang was lying there motionless?  Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Maybe he was sleeping…?”

“I don’t think so.  I don’t know why but I have a bad feeling about this.  Genshi, what do you think?”

The conjurer was unresponsive, staring off as though in a daze.

“Genshi?”

“I… can’t believe… I thought I’d lost that ability.”

“What are you talking about?” Zuko prodded.

“In the vision, I could faintly see your friends’ auras, the life force emanating from within them.  I was one of the only conjurers ever known to have that gift.  I thought I’d lost it, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to do it.”

“And what does that mean in terms of finding them?”

“Well nothing, not directly anyway.  But it can clue us into the emotional and physical state of your friends, their wellbeing.  If they’re happy, sad, in danger or distress, we’ll know before we get there.  And if the visions start improving it can help us to prioritize our efforts and plan accordingly.”

“Well, what did you see?”

“Toph’s aura was light blue with flecks of green and the bison’s aura was white.  The flecks of green tell me that she’s stressed out and has a lot on her shoulders.  Not surprising considering our situation.  The Avatar, on the other hand…”  Genshi paused, her mouth still open, as though the words had escaped her lips and she was trying to find them again.

“What?  What did you see _?_!” Zuko yelled impatiently.

“His aura was in between orange and red, clouded with a murky dark grey.”

“That… doesn’t sound promising,” said Sokka.

“What does all this aura stuff mean, Genshi?” prompted Zuko.

“People who are generally good have auras that range in color from white to light blue.  People who tend to struggle over the line of good and evil have auras that range from yellow to orange.  And people who are generally evil have auras in various shades of red and, in rare cases, black.  Different flecks of colors within indicate certain emotions and their well-being.”

“I knew it,” Zuko muttered under his breath.  “I knew something wasn’t right with Aang.  Something’s happened to him.  How will we deal with my father if he’s like this?”

“I hate to say it,” added Hakoda, “but we’re gonna have to track down Toph and Aang and sort that out before we can effectively confront Ozai.”  The others nodded in reluctant agreement. 

“By your lead, Genshi.  Let’s make tracks.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The first thing Aang noticed when he opened his eyes was a harsh, blinding whiteness all around him.  He squinted and blinked, struggling to focus.  Slowly he stood up and shaded his eyes, scanning them across the landscape.  It was as flat as a Pai Sho board, dotted here and there with knobby, wind-worn rock formations.  There wasn’t a tree or shrub, or any form of life at all, anywhere in sight.

_Where am I?_

As far as he could see in any direction, the land was barren and desolate, accentuated by the pallid, wide open sky.  The hard, pebbly ground was alabaster white, dry and cracked, an occasional dried-out creek bed slithering through it.

“Toph?” he called out, his words falling stagnant to the ground, suffocated by the heavy silence.  No matter where he turned, everything looked the same.  A wave of disorientation crashed over him.  He took a few bewildered steps in one direction then stopped.  The sound of his own footsteps was deafening in the quiet. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Avatar,” a disembodied voice echoed around him.

“Wh–  Who are you?  What am I doing here?”

“You’re being here,” said the voice in a coy tone.

“Okay… where is ‘here’?”

“Here… is where you are.”

“Are you going to keep toying with me or are you actually gonna answer my questions?  Tell me how I got here.”

“I brought you here.”

A rippling miasma appeared on the horizon as though the ground were suddenly radiating with the heat of a mid-summer day.  The miasma began to change shape and a form slowly materialized from within it.  The creature that emerged was both fascinating and eerie, though Aang could not pinpoint the reason exactly.  Its body and tail were that of a wolf’s, ashen grey in color, with the legs and hooves of a stag.  It had six raven antlers, fused together at the base, that twisted and split off from one another like tree limbs.

Perhaps what lent an eerie quality to the creature, Aang thought, was its face.  It had three pairs of crimson eyes, one below the other and each one smaller than the one above.  His face appeared frozen in one expression, as though he wore a mask – just a trace of a smile, wide-awake eyes that drilled into Aang and never seemed to blink.

“I am Jaaku,” said the creature, “the spirit of desolation.”

Of course, it made sense now.  He was in the spirit world.  Why didn’t he remember going into it?

“The spirit of desolation?”

“Loneliness.  Seclusion.  Waste.  Grief.  Havoc.  Sadness…”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Aang cut him off.  “You said you brought me here.  Why?”

“Why else?  Your heart is troubled, is it not?  Your soul in upheaval.  Those you love have all fallen short, turned their backs on you.  You have never felt so betrayed, so alone.  Am I right?”

“How do you know all this?”

“You are the Avatar.  You are deeply connected to the spirit world.  And I have a strong sensitivity to such things.  You needed a place to uncoil, to talk to someone who can empathize and understand what you’re going through.”

“And you think you can?”

Jaaku did not respond right away, as though mocking him in silence.  His face remained unchanging, those uncanny wide-awake eyes ceaselessly laughing at him, his mouth never moving even as he spoke.  It made Aang shudder faintly.

“You feel that no one understands you, all of your so-called friends are sweeping the shattered pieces of your heart under the rug.  They can’t seem to be bothered by your misery, as though you endured nothing more than a skinned knee.  She was your true love, your one and only, and without as much as a second thought, she betrayed you.  She’s spun her own web of fate.  She deserves what’s come to her.  And the others… well, true friends wouldn’t put _her_ rescue above your agony.”

Aang wasn’t sure what to say.  It was as though Jaaku had read his own thoughts aloud.  A sense of reprieve and validation welled up within him, a renewed sting of bitterness coursing through his veins.  Finally, someone on his side.

 “Being the Avatar doesn’t mean you always have to put others before yourself.  Rescuing her would be like saying what she did was okay; it would be letting her get away with it.” 

Aang’s brows raised and then pulled in, his gaze turning cold as his muscles tensed. 

“Sometimes revenge is the right path.  And the sweetest revenge is to sit back and watch Fate take its just and deserved course.”

Jaaku was right.  He couldn’t let her get away with what she did.  And he couldn’t let the others intervene.  Perhaps he would just stay here for a while.  Let them fuss and sweat over the situation.  And if they got too close to success… well, he might just have to make sure that they didn’t.


	18. Chapter 18

The rain continued relentlessly.  Katara’s body felt numb, her lips trembling, the cold cutting through her like a thousand pins and needles.  The waterlogged clothing against her skin forced her body temperature lower and lower, making her shiver as she drooped over Ozai’s shoulder.  Her hair hung in wet slicks, icy beads of water dripping off her nose and chin.  Perhaps she would die, succumbing slowly to hypothermia.  Of course she knew it wasn’t nearly cold enough, but she wished it were.  What did she have to live for now?  No one would miss her.

Through the steady whispering and plonking of the rain all around them, Katara barely heard Ozai mutter something to himself.  “Perfect,” she thought she heard him say, though she couldn’t be sure. 

After a few more paces she felt herself slowly lowered to the ground, staggering and off-balance from the sudden change in position.  It took a few moments for the dizziness to subside and then she saw it.  A solitary, dilapidated old shack, likely having been abandoned for gods knew how long.  Ozai began walking toward it and gestured for her to follow.

The exterior was discolored and dotted with mildew.  A rotting pile of firewood sat beside the front door, overgrown with weeds and thistle.  What she wouldn’t give for a warm fire right now.  Ozai kicked a pile of soggy dead leaves and debris away from the door and turned the handle.  It groaned open, revealing a dank and musty interior.

The two of them entered slowly, swatting cobwebs from their faces.  Katara’s throat tightened at the thick dust in the air.

“What I’m searching for isn’t far from here,” Ozai said, turning to her.  “We can use this place as shelter until I find it.  It shouldn’t be long.”  He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning her from head to foot.  “Have a look around.  You may find some dry clothes to change into.”

“And how will I do _that_ when my hands are tied behind me?” she bit back.

“Quite a predicament you’re in, isn’t it?” he lilted.  “Perhaps you will learn to do as you’re told.  Now wait here until I get back.  I doubt you’d get very far in that condition anyway.”  He smirked, his austere amber eyes lingering on hers before walking out the door and disappearing from view.

Katara gazed around the shadowy room.  It smelled of rain and rot, and something else she couldn’t quite place.  She took a few steps deeper into the shack.  Cracks in the walls spilled small threads of light into the main room, illuminating it just enough to see around her.  There was a rickety stairway just inside the entrance leading up to what looked like a scanty second floor.  A rustic wooden table sat in the center of the main room, a large crack running down the middle, covered in a thick layer of dust and grime.  Six chairs surrounded it in no orderly fashion, two of them knocked on their sides.  On the table several old books, some ruined beyond comprehension, were splayed open where the bygone reader had left off.  Oddly, the books had somehow avoided becoming riddled with dust.  _Strange_ , she thought to herself.

On the far wall, adjacent to the table, sat a fireplace with a mountain of ashes in its mouth spilling onto the cracked and dirty floor.  An iron pot hung over it, reminding her suddenly of how hungry she was.  Looking to her left, a small kitchen led off from main room.  Maybe she could find some food, and then she’d do her best to rummage around for clothes.

She ambled into the kitchen.  Some of the cupboard doors were thrown wide open.  Whoever had lived here seemed to have left in a hurry.  Either that or they weren’t too keen on tidiness.  Mounted on one wall were three shelves holding several glass jars, an assortment of odd herbs and ingredients inside.  Having had some herbalist training growing up, she recognized some of the contents: red and blue fungi, willow bark, cardamom pods, honeycomb…

Nowhere in the kitchen did there appear to be anything edible.  Most of the cupboards were empty save for a few wooden bowls and utensils and a plate of moldy flatbread.  Katara sighed and was about to venture upstairs when a faint glint caught her eye.  She took a few paces toward the source, examining it more closely, when her heart dropped into her stomach.  A butcher knife spattered with blood was lying on the far counter, a blood-soaked rag sitting next to it.  And beside that was a tobacco pipe, still smoldering slightly, threads of smoke drifting up from it.  That was the smell she couldn’t place, she realized.  She felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.  That meant the blood on the knife wasn’t more than a few hours old.

She wanted to run.  She wanted to get as far away from that place as quickly as possible.  Instinct was telling her that something was horribly wrong, that she’d stumbled on something she wasn’t meant to see.  But she couldn’t move, her body frozen like a scene from a bad dream. 

Finally she wrenched herself from her stupor and made her way as hurriedly as she could toward the door, tripping over debris, her hip colliding with a wall, uncoordinated without the use of her hands.  But before she could reach the door, a gruff, unfamiliar voice came from just outside, followed by two other men’s voices she didn’t recognize.  Her face turned pallid, a cold sweat broke over her body.  Looking around frantically, she realized the only place she could possibly hide was upstairs.  She bolted up the stairway as quickly and quietly as she could.  Her stomach tightened, heavy as a rock.  The second floor was nothing more than a loft with a single door-less room attached!  Oh gods, what was she going to do?

A murmur of voices came from the foot of the stairs as the front door groaned open.  Her eyes frantically swept the room for a hiding place, landing on a long, narrow door in the center of the room.  She squeezed herself into the cubby hole, which turned out to be a tiny, overcrowded closet.  Using her foot, she pulled the door closed as far as she could, being forced to leave it slightly ajar without the use of her hands.  She never thought she’d say it, not in a thousand lifetimes, but she wished Ozai were here now.

She couldn’t make out most of what the men were saying, their voices were a muffled sea of gibberish.  But their tone sounded crass and vulgar, as though exchanging crude jokes and punch lines. 

Her legs were beginning to burn from being tucked to her knees in the confined space.  Gingerly she shifted, trying to get a bit more comfortable, when she felt her shoulder bump into a broom leaning against the wall.  She cringed and watched helplessly as the broom toppled over, hitting into the opposite wall.  Katara held her breath, praying to the spirits that it went unnoticed. 

The voices below suddenly went silent.  Every muscle in her body tensed up, her clammy hands clenched together in white-knuckled fists.  Then came the footsteps, groaning and creaking on the rickety stairs, growing ever closer.  Oh gods, if they found her…  She had no way to defend herself.  She was fresh meat.

The footsteps reached the loft and came to a stop.  “Who’s there?” came a husky voice.  The man’s pace was slow and ominous, growing nearer with every step.  Katara swallowed hard, gulping down breaths to stay quiet.  “There’s no need to hide,” he continued.  “We won’t hurt you.”

The man was just feet away from her hiding place now.  How she prayed that he wouldn’t think to look in the closet…

A shadow crept across the gap just below the door and stopped.  “Where could you be?” he slurred in feigned ignorance.  The doorknob rattled lightly and then suddenly the door flew open.  In its place stood a burly, bearded man in Earth Kingdom peasant garb.  Katara shrieked and shuffled backward, going nowhere against the wall.

“Well hello, darling,” the man said, leaning down with a crooked, devilish smile.  “S’awfully nice to see a pretty face like yours around here.  And all packaged up for us too.  Hey, Hanwei!  Akudo!  Check this out,” he called over his shoulder.

Two other men entered the room and stopped.  One clapped the other on the back, a cocky grin on his face.

“Well, look at that,” Hanwei remarked.  “Looks like Daraku’s beaten us back here, dropped off the newest shipment.  She’s sure an eyecatcher.  Aren’tcha, honey?”

“You all stay away from me!” Katara snapped back.  “I don’t know who this Daraku is, but I’m nobody’s shipment.”

A burst of laughter broke out amongst the men.  “I’m afraid that’s just not true, deary,” Akudo spoke up, mocked sympathy on his face.  “We have a buyer in the southern Earth Kingdom who’ll pay _generously_ for a little nymph like you.  We’ve yet to see him outbid at an auction once, and we’ve been to our fair share of auctions.”

Katara’s eyes widened, a lump formed in her throat.  They were slave traders.  Human traffickers.

“Now let’s get you outta there and fixed up for when Daraku comes back,” the first man said, whose name she picked up was Kyu.  “Don’t wanna slow the boss down, he likes things moving on a tight schedule.”  Kyu pulled Katara to her feet and dragged her back downstairs, tying her tightly to a chair.  “We’re expecting Daraku back tomorrow morning.  Till then, you just sit tight and be a good girl and we’ll all get along just fine.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

How many ways could that girl make him miserable?  Controlling her was like trying to start a fire with wet wood.  Practically impossible and damn near useless.  He only needed to keep up the façade a little longer, draw her just a little closer to him.  He could see her resolve dwindling.

The sky above darkened with each step, signaling to Ozai that he was getting close.  The rain had tapered off into a light drizzle, patches of newly-risen stars peeking through the broken clouds above.  If he didn’t find it soon, he’d have to wait out the night and he’d lost too much time already.

And then, as though by a stroke of fate, it came into view.  The crooked, weathered nub of a headstone peeked up from a bed of tangled weeds and brambles, glossy in the rain.  The archaic inscription on the stone confirmed its identity.  This was it!  The key to regaining his power.  The key to the Avatar’s destruction. 

Without hesitation, he took out his dagger and began to dig.  It wasn’t long before he felt the thump of contact with the object.  He reached in and pulled out a washed out, ragged journal, bound in fraying leather.  The sage’s research.  All of his findings and knowledge at the tips of Ozai’s fingers.He’d waited so long, so patiently for this moment.  His hands quivered with anticipation as he slowly opened the journal, careful to keep it intact. 

At first he thought perhaps his eyes weren’t seeing clearly.  After all, twilight had left him little visibility.  He blinked and looked harder.  Most of the pages were filled with nonsensical ramblings, gibberish.  There was no order to the pages; a phrase here, a scribble there.  All of his work and research jumbled together and utterly useless without the sage’s help to sort it out.

Ozai gritted his teeth and wrung the book in his hands.  No.  This could not be!  Surely there was some mistake.

Taking a deep breath, he flipped through one last time.  The only legible inscription was written at the end, on the second to last page.

_I’ve found it.  A tiny, obscure tear in the cosmos.  It took longer than expected, but I knew I’d find it eventually.  And given the coordinates of its location, I surmise the magnetic force here would be nearly uncontainable.  The energy of this place would be enough to rip a lesser man apart, but with focus and concentration I will not, must not, fail to harness its power and wield it against the Avatar.  The sheer force of its energy if manipulated correctly at him, I am certain, will succeed in stripping the Avatar of his power and simultaneously transferring it to myself.  If I survive this endeavor, I will be the most powerful human being in all the world!  Now begs the question, how to…_

The words became illegible, blotted and blurred from decades-long earth and water damage.  But Ozai smiled.  He knew exactly the procedure of which the sage had written.  He had experienced its strength-draining agony himself not long ago, though admittedly in a different way.

Energy bending.

He could never forget the sheer intensity and anguish of feeling his life force sucked out of him bit by bit.  Never could he have imagined that the experience would serve to benefit him later on.  He knew exactly what it felt like, and therefore he was certain he knew how it was done.  All he had to do now was find this place and lure the Avatar there.

Ozai turned the page and smiled again.  He almost couldn’t believe his eyes.  There on the last page was a map drawn in exquisite detail to the very location.  Oh, how he would make that little Avatar boy suffer.  Things were finally going in his favor.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

When Katara woke, it took a few moments for her to remember where she was.  The stiff muscles in her neck and the pain around her wrists brought it crashing back to her.  A renewed sense of dread knotted her stomach.  To her left, her captors sat at the table playing a quiet, tense of game of cards.  One of them was smoking his pipe, the other tapping an agitated finger on the table, the staccato beat the only break in the stifling silence.

Fresh morning sunbeams filtered through the grimy windows, the rays of light strikingly visible inside the dusty cabin.  _Ozai, please hurry back_.

Just then, the sound of the doorknob jiggling turned their heads toward the door.  Katara perked up, inhaling a breath of hope.  It was him!  He’d finally returned.  But her spirits crashed back down when an unfamiliar face walked through the door.

Kyu stood up to greet him.  “Daraku, glad to see you made it back.”

The man was tall and muscular and wore a stern expression, his narrow green-brown eyes coldly scanning the room, coming to stop on Katara.  He looked around at the three other men and then back at her.

“Who’s the girl?” he asked.

The other men glanced around at each other, slack expressions revealing their confusion.

“Uhm, you mean you didn’t drop her off here?” Kyu asked.

“Don’t you think I would’ve told you if I was planning a delivery?” Daraku snarled.

“Well, I mean–   It’s just…” he trailed off.  “Yes, sir, I’m sure you would have.”  He waited for a response from Daraku before continuing.  “So, what do you want to do with her?”

Daraku strutted slowly over to Katara, encircling her before coming to stand behind her.  “Well, it’d certainly be a shame to let such a catch slip through our fingers, wouldn’t it gentlemen?”  He softly swept her hair behind her neck.  “A pretty little thing like her?  I bet there’s a hundred men out there willing to outbid each other just to run their hands over that exotic skin.”

Purrs of delight resounded amongst the men.  Daraku knelt down to eye level with Katara, his gaze cutting into her from the corner of her eye.  “You’re going to make us a lot of money, sweetheart.”

“Please,” she heard herself whimper.  “Please, don’t… Just let me go.”

The men snickered, making her stomach churn.  A vice grip tightened around her arm as Daraku’s lips lowered to her ear.  “You’re mine now,” his gravelly voice breathed.

Footsteps just outside the door grabbed their attention, their postures suddenly stiffened, muscles rigid.  Hanwei glanced around at the others and walked toward the door, stepping just out of sight of the entrance, poised to ambush any intruder.  No sooner had Ozai appeared in the doorway than Hanwei thrust a blade out, the tip of it hovering threateningly against his neck.

“And just who might you be?” Hanwei barked.

Ozai froze, glowering around at the men.  His gaze landed on Katara and lingered for a moment before darting back to Hanwei.

“Let her go,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. 

The cold steel pressed harder against his skin.  “I asked you a question.  You think you’re in a position to give us orders?”  The other men exchanged incredulous laughter. 

“I’ll only ask you once more.”  His tone was cool and collected, foreboding.  “Let her go.”

Hanwei snorted in amused disbelief.  He seized Ozai by the arm and shoved him inside, slamming the door behind him.  “Do you have a death wish, my friend?” he spat, the veins in his temples bulging out.  “Do you know who you’re dealing with?”

Ozai smirked, making Hanwei’s eye twitch.  “I don’t think you know who _you’re_ dealing with.”

Kyu walked over and placed a hand on Hanwei’s  shoulder, prompting him to step away before doing anything rash.  He stood before Ozai with a strong posture, arms folded, his head cocked as he studied his face, his jaw set, eyes narrowed.

 “Your face looks familiar,” he drawled.  “Do I know you somehow?”

Katara saw Ozai’s jaw clench, a flash of uneasiness in his eyes.  The other men didn’t seem to notice.

“No,” Ozai muttered, never breaking eye contact.  “Now let her go.”

Daraku chuckled and stood up, placing a cracked, dirty hand on her shoulder.  “And just what is she to you?”  Ozai just scowled at the man.  A wide grin spread across Daraku’s face.  “I see.  She’s a little young to be your girlfriend, don’t you think?”

“It’s none of your concern what she is.”  Ozai’s voice was cool and collected.  “What _is_ your concern is what will happen to you if you don’t do as I say.”

Daraku huffed and laughed in disbelief.  “Get him outta here.”  He waved a dismissive hand, signaling to the others when Kyu stopped short.

“Wait, I _do_ know you.  You’re the ex-Fire Lord, your face was on wanted posters all over the last town.  I hear there’s an unprecedented reward on your head.  Looks like it’s our lucky day, gentlemen.”

Sauntering over to stand before Ozai, Daraku raised an eyebrow and looked him over, one corner of his mouth turned up in a pitying smirk.  “The great and fearsome Fire Lord Ozai, now nothing more than a petty fugitive.  I never would have recognized you.  Forced retirement not treating you well?”  He erupted with an ugly laugh.  “Well, you can say goodbye to your little friend.  After we trade you in for the reward that’ll set us for life, there’s a particular, uh, gentleman caller who’s ‘specially interested in her type.  We’ll be swimming in gold before too long, all thanks to you two.”  He winked over his shoulder at Katara and then turned back to Ozai.

“I see,” Ozai responded in an odd monotone.  “Well, there appears to be one small flaw in that plan of yours.  Since you know who I am, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what I’m capable of.  If you choose to go forward with this, you worthless vomitous mass, I can guarantee that you will not leave here with your life.  If you’re not entirely set on being gutted like a pig today, I’d suggest you hand over the girl and walkout of here while you still can.”

Daraku’s shoulders tensed, his eyes shifting nervously to his comrades and then back to Ozai.  “You’re bluffing,” he said with strained confidence.  “One man against the four of us?  You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Perhaps I am bluffing.  There’s one sure way to find out,” Ozai grinned.

Daraku licked his lips and pressed them together, scowling at Ozai before taking a reluctant step back, throwing his palms up and out in exaggerated surrender. 

“Fine.  You two aren’t worth my time anyway,” he grumbled, heading for the door and gesturing to the others.  “Come on, boys.  Let’s get outta here.”

The men shuffled out the door, leaving nothing but a heavy silence in their wake.  Katara pulled in a deep, ragged breath as her eyes met Ozai’s.  At first he said nothing, walking over and kneeling down to cut her restraints in silence.  He hesitated for a moment before finally cutting the binding he’d placed on her wrists as well.

She blinked in surprise and turned to look at him.  He seemed to blatantly avoid her gaze, casting his eyes away and pushing off his knees to stand up.  A shooting pain stabbed through her shoulder as she tried to stretch out her stiff arms.  She hissed in pain and cradled her arm to her chest.  Being unable to move, she’d almost forgotten about her injury.

“Let me see your arm,” his voice came from behind her.

Katara’s eyebrows lifted.  “Why?”

He didn’t answer, instead gently lifted her injured arm and pressed his fingers all around her shoulder, assessing the extent of the damage.

“This will be easy to fix.  Hold still.”

Katara flinched and jerked away from him, her eyes widened.  “Wait, what _?_!  No, don’t touch me!  I’ll heal it myself.”

“It’s not a flesh wound.  It doesn’t work that way.”

“How do _you_ know?  Let go of me.”

He yanked her back into place, his gaze sharp and intense.  “I just know,” he spoke through his teeth with forced restraint.  “Now we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way.  I really hope you choose the easy way.”

Katara rolled her eyes away from him, drawing in a breath and releasing it.

“Is it gonna hurt?”

“Yes,” he responded casually.  “A lot.”

She snapped her head back to face him and shot him an angry glare.  “Well, at least try not to enjoy it so much.”

Ozai smirked.  “I’ll try.  Now try to relax.  And hold still.”

He lifted her arm up and straight out, perpendicular to her body, keeping a strong hold on her.  Katara turned away and squeezed her eyes shut, her toes curling in apprehension.  All at once there was a jolt and a crack, followed by a short, agonizing pain.  She shrieked through gritted teeth and then a moment later, there was relief; the aching was gone.  Katara breathed a sigh and felt the tension in her body relax.

“There.  Now that that’s done,” he said, keeping a hold on her arm and pulling her out of the chair, “we can get going.”

Reaching for the doorknob, he noticed the absence of footsteps behind him and turned around.

“What are you doing?  I said let’s go.”

Katara stared numbly at the wall behind him, her body slack, a vacant expression upon her face.

“It’s just…” she stammered.  “The thought of what would’ve happened to me.”  Her eyes were growing misty, her voice cracking under the weight of brimming tears.  She shifted her gaze to look at him.  “If you hadn’t come back when you did…  They were going to…”

“I know what they wanted with you,” he interrupted.  “There’s no need to dwell on it, they’re gone now.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and managed a hint of a smile.  “Thank you,” she sighed, choking back the tears.

Ozai’s mouth pulled into a thin line, his hands tightened into fists and then relaxed again.  He drew back and cast a sidelong glance at Katara before darting his eyes away.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled under his breath.  Clearing his throat, he opened the door.  “Come,” he said quietly and disappeared through the door.


	19. Chapter 19

There was no light left save for that of the stars.  A sliver of moon peeked between the spotty shroud of vanishing leaves above, scarcely large enough for its light to filter down through the branches.  Genshi and her companions proceeded in silence, hardly daring to breathe for fear that even the whisper of an exhale would drown out any sign from the friends they pursued.  An hour went by, and then another, but she had managed to convince them – barely – that they had to keep going.  They were tired and weary but she knew, she _knew_ , that Toph and Aang were close.  She could sense them, feel them.  They might be around the next tree or just beyond the next riverbank.  She was sure of it… wasn’t she?

The silence surrounded her on every side, pressing upon her with the tangible presence of doubt and skepticism from the others.  She was well aware of their diminishing faith in her.  She couldn’t blame them.  They’d been searching for… how long now?  With nothing to show for it.  And while she would normally be the first to admit her misgivings of her so-called gift, she was certain that what she had seen and felt in those visions was accurate and that the strong presence she felt now was no coincidence.

Beads of cold dew clung to her face, chilling her skin in the brisk night air.  In the distance, the flutter of wings unseen made her start.  She halted for a moment, her hand signaling them to stop, and peered hard into the black void ahead.  She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated, instead pointing into the wall of darkness that surrounded them from every angle.  She was sure it was them she sensed.  But it had been so long since she’d done this.  If she was wrong, if it was someone else, someone they weren’t expecting… Well, it was best to be cautious.

“This way,” she whispered, her head nodding for them to follow. 

A twig snapped under her foot, amplified in the lifeless silence.  The tang of pine needles filled the air and danced on their tongues, the evergreen quills crushed beneath their footsteps.  A moment passed and then from somewhere not far off rumbled a guttural growl followed by a young girl’s voice.  “Who’s there?  Show yourself!”

Behind Genshi, the simultaneous gasps and squeals confirmed what she had suspected.  She sighed in relief, letting her shoulders relax, a small smile turning up her lips.  She’d done it.

“Toph!” Zuko shouted.  “Toph, it’s us!  Where are you?”

“Zuko?  Is that you _?_!”

“Stay where you are!  We’re coming to find –!”

The crashing and snapping of foliage turned their heads and a moment later a large form emerged in the darkness, its familiar groaning like a sweet symphony to their ears.

“Appa!” Suki cried out, running to hug the bison’s soft, cold muzzle.

Toph had scarcely had time to jump from the saddle before a swarm of warm, welcoming arms surrounded her, a jubilant sea of incomprehensible voices filling the night air with beauty.  Genshi stood back, hugging her arms to her chest, and smiled, admiring the scene before her.  So this is what it was like to have friends.

“You have _no idea_ how happy I am to see you guys,” Toph sighed as the commotion began to die down.  “But how did you find me?”

“We’ll explain all that in a minute,” Zuko responded.  “Where’s Aang?”

 “Oh, uh, he’s kinda lying unconscious in Appa’s saddle.”

“What _?_!”

“Yeah, he went into the spirit world, like, a _while_ ago and just… never came back.”  She tried to mask the worry that was heavy in her tone.  “I was about to go insane from the solitude.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut.  “Ugh, this can _not_ be happening.”

“Maybe there’s a way to bring him back,” Sokka chimed in.  “Maybe the sound of our voices will draw him out somehow.”

“Do you really think that will work?” Suki asked, lifting an eyebrow.  “Can he even hear us when he’s in the spirit world?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot.”

For a moment they were silent, exchanging tentative glances.  Wind slipped through the branches, crackling the dying leaves that fought to hang on.  In the absence of a better idea, the friends nodded in agreement.  Genshi and Hakoda stayed on the ground while the rest of them climbed into the saddle to sit next to Aang.  Sokka bit his lip, his eyes darting around at his friends. 

“Aang, it’s Sokka.  Can you hear me?”  He paused a moment to gauge a response.  None came.  He shifted on his knees and cleared his throat.  “Hey buddy, listen, I’m sure what you’re doing is important, but we – your friends – really need you here right now.”

Silence.  Sokka swallowed.  His eyes moved from one friend to another, brow wrinkled, searching for ideas.

“Aang, if you can hear us,” Zuko pitched in, “give us a sign.”

Zuko wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if he really saw it – the smallest flinch of Aang’s eyebrows, like the subtlest trace of a breeze that wisps and is gone.

“Did anyone else see that?” Sokka asked, beating him to the question.

“You guys saw it too?”

“Maybe it’s working!” Toph exclaimed.

Zuko placed his hands on Aang’s shoulders.  “Aang,” he shouted, shaking him, gently at first and then more vigorously with each unresponsive moment.  “Aang!  Come on, I know you heard us!  Come back!  You _have_ to come back!”  Aang’s body was limp, thrashing harder with every increasing jolt.

“Zuko.”  Suki’s hand finally stilled his vehement efforts.  “It’s no use.”

The firebender released his grasp and slumped back, exhaling a pant of frustration.  His posture sagged, neck bent, as he rubbed his fingers along his brows to his temples.  The hopelessness of his stance spoke for all of them.  His stomach clenched, cold and heavy as stone.  He knew that having Aang with them was their best bet in bringing Ozai down, but waiting for him would only make things worse.  It wasn’t an option.  If they were lucky, he’d come back before they reached his father and Katara.  But luck seemed to have a nasty habit of running out whenever they needed it most.

Zuko’s mouth went dry.  They didn’t have a choice.  They’d have to go it without him.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

 “What… what is that?”  The boy avatar opened his heavily lidded eyes, glazed over from days in his lethargic stupor.  The enchantment Jaaku had cast had been working beautifully, keeping him in a somnolent, dreamlike state.  Which made it all the more strange that he now seemed to suddenly awaken, fighting against it.

“‘That’ is a word which could refer to many things.”  Jaaku kept his voice flat and torpid, devoid of emotion.  He needed to keep the boy placated.  “Of what are you speaking, Avatar?”

“I don’t… I’m not sure,” he slurred, sitting up slowly and rubbing his head.  “I feel strange, like something is pulling me, calling to me.  Like a dream I’m trying to remember… but can’t.”

The boy was beginning to slip away.  Jaaku could feel his mind clouding, fading from the spirit world.  He was not about to let the avatar’s friends succeed in pulling him back, or in any way disrupt Ozai’s mission.  Every step the man took toward victory brought Jaaku one step closer to seeing the world’s destruction.  If Ozai was successful in draining the avatar’s power into himself, for all intents and purposes he would _be_ the avatar.  He would take the young boy’s place in the cosmos, complete with a newfound connection to the spirit world.  All Jaaku would have to do then would be to sit back and watch as Ozai worked his magic.  The man was devastation incarnate.  There was no telling what he would be capable of, what kind of beautiful havoc he would wreak, if he were to harness such power.  It was a magnificent plan, music to his destruction-loving soul.  He only needed to ensure Ozai’s complete success.

“You’re tired, Avatar.  Your mind is weary.  Come, rest a while.  Let your cares wash away with the peace and solace of this place.”

The avatar’s features softened, his eyes blinking long and slowly.  “You’re right,” he sighed with a languid stretch.  “I think I’ll just… lie down for a while.”  The boy’s listless eyes slid closed, his head drooping forward until his body followed, slumping lifelessly to the ground.

“Yes, lie down.  Close your eyes,” he crooned, his voice drawing the avatar back in, weaving the enchantment stronger around him.  “All will be as it should be… before long.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The fire gnawed at the massive log, consuming it like a disease until only a sickly pile of molten ash remained.  Ozai huddled close to the warm embers, breathing ghosts into the brisk dewy air, as the sun’s first halo peered over the horizon.  The rainstorm the week before must have been autumn’s last stand, as winter seemed to have made a sudden early arrival.  He hated the cold.  He wasn’t accustomed to it.  He had expected to be so much farther along before the weather turned.

His eyes flicked down to the piece of paper he held in his hands, rustling it between his fingers.  It was a letter from Jiao delivered by messenger hawk, thankfully while the girl was scavenging for firewood.  It was about time that imbecile had sent him an update.  He had begun to think Jiao may have turned traitor.  He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone before scanning its contents again.

_Greetings, my Lord,_

_I apologize for the delay in the sending of this letter.  I’m afraid some unavoidable and unforeseeable complications have hampered my efforts to contact you previously, but I’m happy to report I have rounded up a small army of men willing to aid your mission in any way they can.  We have set up a base in the northern mountains of the Earth Kingdom and are ready and waiting for further orders._

_The main intent of this letter, however, is to warn you that there has been a setback.  There are rumors that three mercenary men reported having seen you in the forest near the village of Gaipan.  The surrounding towns have been put on high alert and have likely called in reinforcements.  Be on your guard._

_The recruits and I are set up in Frostbite Cove.  We will remain here until you either send orders or arrive in person.  When we meet again I would like to discuss the possibility of an advance payment for my services.  My wife has taken a turn for the worse and the doctors say if she doesn’t receive proper care soon, the cancer will take her.  I’m sure you know my loyalty would remain unwavering._

_Spirits hasten your steps, my Lord._

_Your humble servant,_

_Jiao_

Sparks spewed and sputtered from the embers as two new logs were thrown onto the pile.  Ozai crumpled the note in his hand and tucked it into his pocket as the waterbender brushed the fragments of bark from her hands.  She stared at the fire for a moment before taking a seat by the flames, a bit closer to him than seemed necessary, hugging her knees to her chest. 

Ozai’s gaze slid toward her from the corner of his eye and then back to the fire.  The girl had been acting odd ever since the incident with the slavers.  She’d been keeping strangely close to him and had been inexplicably obedient.  At times she even seemed almost… content.  Her features seemed softer, her posture more relaxed. Once he’d even caught her humming softly to herself.

As baffling as her change in behavior was, he was not one to neglect such a stroke of luck.  He knew he’d wear her down and gain her trust eventually.  He just hadn’t expected it to be so easy.  Granted her resistance had been hanging by a thread after he’d convinced her that Zuko, her last hope of rescue, had been playing her and that she had no one to run to.  But perhaps he owed a debt of thanks to those slavers after all.  Unwittingly making him the “hero” may have broken the last straw of her resistance.  Nothing could have come easier.

And yet… there was something else.  Something in the way she looked at him lately.  The way he’d catch her staring at him from the corner of his eye, only to blush and quickly glance away the moment he looked at her.  Or the way her lips would part, heavy with something that looked strangely like longing, as her eyes burned into him when she thought he wasn’t looking.  Not to mention that night not long ago when he’d awoken to her touching him… 

Blessed mother of Agni, the girl actually had a crush on him.  When he had goaded her before about an attraction to him, he’d meant only to spite her, a way of toying with her, confusing her.  He never imagined it might actually be true.  He had to choke back a laugh at the thought, the idea seemed so absurd.  But all the evidence was there.  He had heard of such a phenomenon before: a captive developing unintended feelings for her captor, subconsciously mistaking an absence of harm for caring, or even love, on her captor’s part.  But he never considered that might actually be the case until now. 

Perhaps this new development called for a change in tactic.  The girl was putty in the palm of his hand now, the most difficult part past him.  A softer, more delicate approach would not only draw her that much closer to him but would likely be even more effective in her besotted state.  Perhaps there were spirits yet on his side after all.  A change in fortune had come at just the right time.

A sudden burst of wind nipped at his face, his skin prickling at the frigid air, bringing him back to the matters at hand.  The last of autumn’s leaves tore from the trees, leaving their spindly branches naked and shivering in the cold breeze.  As much as he hated to admit it, he knew they couldn’t last many more nights with the supplies they had.  Their clothing wasn’t made to withstand these temperatures and they would need better equipment if it were to snow.  Just in time for every town within a hundred mile radius to be teeming with guards.  Damn it all, he had no choice.  At least Jiao had tipped him off.  He was going in with the advantage.  He’d just have to get what he needed and get out without drawing attention.  He’d done it before.  And he would do it again.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Merchants hollered over the drone of incoherent murmurs, the sound of rickety carts being wheeled over uneven roads filling the air.  Ozai and Katara stood at the opening of a vast marketplace leading to a town in the distance.  Tall stone walls outlined the perimeter of the entire market and town, providing one solitary archway as both entrance and exit at the far end where they stood.  An Earth Kingdom flag rippled on one side of the archway while another flag waved on the other, its emblem a symbol of unity between the four nations.

The market wasn’t exactly small, but for the size of it there seemed to be an astounding number of people mingling throughout.  The crowd looked like a giant sea anemone, undulating randomly but as one massive entity.  There hardly appeared to be a break between bodies.  Judging from the colorful flags and streamers that hung from the plethora of stalls and booths, she figured there must be some kind of festival in town.

Ozai was strangely silent and hadn’t budged since they walked in under the stone archway.  Turning to look at him, Katara noticed his eyes fixed solidly on something up ahead.  She followed the direction of his stare to a wooden pillar towering in the center square, tacked with various bulletins and town notices.  There, on a vastly sized poster, overlapping what might have otherwise been important news, was Ozai’s face alongside her own with a reward written in large print underneath.  She had never seen so many digits following the currency sign in all her life.  And scattered heavily amidst the multitudes of boisterous people were Earth Kingdom soldiers, more numerous than she could count, leisurely pacing at his or her assigned post. 

She knew what he was thinking.  They were both thinking it.  “They must know you’re close.  Maybe we shouldn’t…,” she said aloud before she could stop herself.

“And why do you care?” he asked softly, turning to her, the inflection in his voice hinting of a deeper question.

The breath hitched in her throat.  His tone took her by surprise.  There was a touch of something that had never been there before.  Tenderness?  Maybe, but there was something else…  Affection?  His eyes brushed across her face as he stepped in closer and placed a gentle grasp around her arm, sending an electrical tingle down her spine and through her body.  Filled with a sudden discomfort at her own reaction, she averted her eyes for a moment, feeling her face grow warm.  But against her will she felt her eyes drawn back to him to find his fiery gaze still studying her.  With a sheepish expression, she opened her mouth to speak when he spoke first.

“I think you care because you see now that those you loved and trusted most are not all you thought they were.  You care because I’m the only person who has ever been completely truthful and forthcoming with you, the only one from whom you know what to expect.  And despite what else you know about me, I’m the only one you can really trust.” 

She blinked rapidly before going wide-eyed, dumbfounded by his sudden candor.  Why did his words seem to sting with the truth?  Her mouth opened to protest, but he continued. 

“You belong with me now, girl.”  He spoke slowly.  His voice was lower now, a deep whisper.  “Katara.”

Her eyes shot to his.  The sound of her name was so foreign on his lips.  And yet, so unwelcomely pleasing to her ears.  And was it her imagination…?  No, she definitely just felt his thumb lightly brush over her arm in his grasp.  Her throat tightened.  She tried to look away, she wanted desperately to wrench herself from him.  But her body was frozen, her gaze glued to those burning amber eyes.

“Don’t wander far,” she finally heard him say, grateful for the transition.  “We’ll need to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.  I’ll come to you when it’s time.”  All she could manage was a nod, his fingertips grazing along her arm as he let go. 

A ragged breath escaped her as he strolled leisurely toward the crowds, disappearing almost instantly.  That tone, the way his pupils dilated as his eyes bore into her… Maybe she was reading into it, maybe she was imagining things, but was he trying to tell her in some roundabout, maddening way that he cared for her?  That he _wanted_ her with him, not just needed her for convenience sake?

A sudden jolt shook her from her thoughts as a short, stubby woman sideswiped her from behind, trying to squeeze through the throngs of bodies.  She closed her eyes and let out a huge breath, struggling to shake off her daze.  Glancing down, she noticed her hands were trembling faintly.  Ugh, she needed to clear her head.

Katara looked around and made a bee-line to the nearest booth, and was promptly greeted by a man in his early forties.  His brown hair was peppered with grays and beginning to recede.  The smile he wore seemed genuine, welcoming.

Her eyes skimmed over the various wares.  An assortment of colorful miniature bottles and packets lined the counter, filled with strange elixirs, powders, and perfumes.  A couple of bowls and crates sat near the end, displaying a variety of exotic fruits and herbs, most of which she didn’t recognize.  A couple of the fruits looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t quite place why.

 “Looking for somethin’ in particular, honey?” he asked.  “Maybe somethin’ nice for your, uh, other half?”  He wiggled his eyebrows, emphasizing the words ‘other half’ with a playful grin. 

“Excuse me?”  She raised an eyebrow with a faint smile, unsure of his intent.

“Still in denial, huh?” he chuckled.  “You don’t have to play coy with me, honey.  I know a pair of lovers when I see ‘em.” 

“What _?_!” she shrieked, all traces of her smile gone.  Suddenly it dawned on her.  She _had_ seen those fruits before, in a book once.  They were known as “love foods”.  This man sold aphrodisiacs!  She didn’t even want to know what the potions did.  “That man is _not_ my lover!” she snapped.

A bellowing laugh rose from deep within his gut.  “The Earth Kingdom is full of secrets, my dear, but I’m afraid that’s not one of them.” 

Katara felt her entire face flush bright red.  So she hadn’t imagined it; there had been something more in the way Ozai spoke to her.  This man had noticed it too.  Oh spirits, she needed to get away from there.  So much for clearing her head.  Backing away, she took several quick paces into the crowd before stopping to look around.  There were more booths and stalls than she could shop in an entire day.  She reminded herself of the reason they were here and decided to focus on finding those items she’d need going forward, when an array of sequins and vibrant colors caught her eye.

From a small stall nestled between two larger booths hung some of the most beautiful silk fabrics and exquisite dresses she had ever seen.  She felt her spirits perk up at the sight.  There was only one thing she was certain would help ease her mind of her troubles: retail therapy.

She began nudging her way through the crowd, nearly tripping over a stray dog begging for scraps, before finally arriving in front of the stall.  The owner was a gauntly woman, her skin creased and leathery from too much sun.  Her fingers and ears were adorned with jewelry and the tunic she wore cut a little too low for someone of her age.

“Welcome to The Fancy Courtesan where you’ll find the most authentic quality Fire Nation garments for the best bargain in all the Earth Kingdom,” she croaked in a husky voice, as though reciting a script for the hundredth time. 

Katara just smiled and lifted her hand to caress the silken dress that had caught her attention hanging from the awning.  The Fire Nation always did have such stunning clothing.  It was a deep red dress, sleek and shiny, with black and gold detailing around the hems and neckline.  It was cinched at the waist with a wide black satin ribbon to offer a flattering silhouette.  Lavish enough to be eye-catching yet simple enough so as not to be showy. 

“How much for this dress?” Katara asked.

“Two hundred gold pieces,” the woman replied, staring at her painted, dagger-like nails.

Katara frowned and bit her lip, pulling the coin purse from her pocket.  She emptied the contents into her hand, counting 206 gold pieces.  She could afford it, barely.  But if she bought it, she wouldn’t have enough left for the important stuff.

“Sorry,” she said, the disappointment evident in her tone.  “I probably shouldn’t.”

She began to turn away when the woman called her back.  “Wait.  How does one-fifty sound?”

Katara halted.  For all she’d been through, she deserved to splurge a little on something impractical.  If nothing else, it would make her happy and take her mind off Ozai and these unwanted feelings for a change.  She turned back with a smile.  “You’ve got a deal.”

Tucking the neatly wrapped parcel into her satchel, Katara couldn’t help but smile as she walked away and rejoined the masses of people.  She stepped aside to make way for a food cart, the vendor hollering and waving to entice potential customers.  The smell of yeasty breads and cured meats made her mouth water.  She didn’t have enough money left for food, not when there were more important things to buy.  Suddenly she was beginning to second-guess her decision to buy that dress.

Her smile faded as she scanned the sea of faces for a sign of Ozai.  She wasn’t sure where he was, but she figured she probably didn’t have much more time.  She’d had her fun; now she needed to get to the important stuff.  She stood on her tiptoes and shielded her eyes to locate the correct booth when a hand came down lightly on her shoulder.  Startled, she drew back and turned to see Ozai standing next to her.  The expression on his face made her stomach tighten.  He drew her close and leaned forward, his eyes darting past her, searching for something.

“We need to leave.  Now,” he spoke in a low voice near her ear.  “Keep your head down and follow me.”  He clasped his hand around her wrist, concealing his eyes below his hood, and began snaking through the crowd.  They moved as quickly as they could without drawing attention.

“What’s going on?  What happened?” she called over his shoulder, trying to keep her face toward the ground.

“Just keep moving,” she heard him mutter.  She thought he said something else, but his words were stifled by the barking of a nearby dog.

A thousand thoughts were racing through her head, though she had a fairly good idea what had prompted Ozai’s sudden departure.  In such a public place, their presence was like a pebble thrown into a pond; their ripples may be faint, but they could only go unnoticed for so long.

They squeezed between bodies and around vendors’ carts.  Katara could barely make out the tip of the Earth Kingdom flag at the entrance of the town in the distance.  They had a good deal of market to trek before they could disappear into the cover of forest again.

As they crammed their way past a heavyset man and his even portlier wife, they didn’t see the large merchant’s cart until it was right in front of them, obstructing their route.  The dog’s barking was becoming more rampant by the moment, and the clucks and squawks that bickered from the cart told her why.   It seemed that the merchant’s bunny-hens sensed the nearby threat and were growing anxious.

Ozai began leading her around the cart when a loud snap came from nearby followed by the frenetic shouting of a man.  Katara turned her head to see the dog in question hightailing toward the cart, dragging behind him the frayed remains of a leash.  In one leap he was upon the cart, the sudden jolt and weight toppling it over and shattering the hens’ wooden cages. 

The uproar was deafening.  Squawks, shrieks, yelps, and snarls turned many startled heads, feathers and fur flying in the air like cherry blossoms on a windy day, as the merchant frantically tried to protect his squabbling livestock.  All eyes were turned in their direction.  She felt Ozai’s grip on her wrist tighten as he tried to increase the distance between them and the rousing scene.

“There!  That’s him!” a man’s voice hollered above the commotion.  “I’m sure of it.  He’s even got the girl, see?”

Katara glanced over her shoulder to see a scrawny, bearded man in weathered rags pointing straight at her with a guard at his side.

“You there, citizen!” the guard shouted, unsheathing his sword.  Frightened gasps came from the crowd, the sea of people parting to escape the weapon.  “By order of the Earth King, stop right there!”

Ozai cast a cursory glance over his shoulder and halted briefly.  His eyes shot to Katara for a moment as his hold on her wrist tightened, tugging lightly, inconspicuously.  She read the message in his gaze.  The next instant he dashed forward, barreling through the hordes of anxious onlookers, hauling Katara behind him.

“Backup!  I need backup over here!” the guard roared as he stormed after them.

Ozai hurled a man out of the way as they charged through the throngs of people.  Frightened faces of women and children flashed by, shrieks and screams piercing her ears.  From the corner of her eyes she could see the tops of guards’ helmets racing toward them, closing in.  This could be it.  Her rescue.  But the feeling of relief she had expected never came.  Who would she return to?  Was that really what she wanted?  She didn’t know anymore.

A jolt knocked them both to the ground as they collided with a baker’s cart.  Ozai yanked Katara to her feet and darted off again, leaving the baker to writhe and slip on the squashed cake beneath him.  Katara was growing breathless, panting.  She could feel a stitch forming in her side as they sprinted toward the exit. 

“Halt!” a guard’s voice boomed just ahead of them.  

Ozai didn’t even slow down.  Instead he changed direction, as quickly as a leaf in the wind.  They were running along the perimeter of the town’s stone wall now.  Katara thought they had succeeded in bypassing the bulk of the guards when a swarm of them dashed into view, surrounding them.  They were being cornered.

“This is your final warming, citizen,” a guard shouted as they ran toward them, growing closer.  “Step down now, or we will resort to lethal force!”

Katara stepped backward, glancing around.  There was no escape.  They were backing up to a stone wall, lined with vacant stalls and booths.  The only way to go was… up.

Before she had even completed the thought, Ozai clambered to the top of an empty booth, reached down and hoisted her up.  They ran across the roof and leapt onto an adjacent booth, jumping lithely from roof to roof toward the exit with the guards in hot pursuit below.

Katara’s heart was racing, her lungs aching from the cold air and exertion.  She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up.  As they jumped onto the next stall, the sound of splintering wood was their only warning.  Before they could react, the stall crashed to the ground, sending them plummeting down with a mountain of jagged wooden boards. 

Her joints were aching but she managed to scramble to her feet.  She had a few scratches and splinters, but was otherwise okay.  When she turned to Ozai, her eyes widened.  A wooden stake was protruding from his side, blood spilling onto the rubble.  He clutched his side and pulled out the stake with a raspy groan.  The pain was written all over his face, but he forced himself to stand, ready to make a run for it again when a lone guard appeared around the corner.

“Here!” he shouted.  “They’re he –!”

Ozai grabbed a jagged stake from the rubble and hurled it at the guard.  The sharp end sunk deeply into his neck.  His shouts turned to gurgles as blood spewed from the wound, pooling between the cobbles on the ground, his body slumping over like a discarded rag doll.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ozai clutched her wrist and raced off again.  Katara’s heartbeat was pounding in her ears.  Strays hairs clung to her forehead, dampened with sweat.  Looking ahead, she could see the exit in plain sight now.  They were so close.  But at that moment, a group a guards emerged from the anxious multitudes, blocking their escape route.

Ozai turned quickly, storming back into the crowd in an attempt to lose them.  Katara’s shoulder rammed into a stack of crates, knocking them over with a crash as they shot through the thick of the marketplace.  Aching and breathless, they arrived before the opposite wall, searching frantically for their next move.  They had managed to put some distance between them and the guards but she could seem them burrowing through the crowd toward them.

“Come on.”

Katara turned to see Ozai atop another empty booth, reaching for her.  He helped her up and quickly began to scale the wall, anchoring his hands and feet on protruding rocks.  She hesitated briefly but knew there was nothing else to do.  Following his lead, she grabbed onto jutting rocks in the wall and began to climb.

The blood from Ozai’s wound was beginning to seep through his cloak.  With every upward heave, his grunts and groans were growing louder, more intense.  Katara could see the sweat beading profusely on his forehead, the color starting to drain from his face.  But they were almost to the top now.  If he could only make it a little further…

His fingertips hooked onto the top edge of the wall, trembling from diminishing strength.  Suddenly, as he struggled to pull himself up, the rock cracked and crumbled beneath his hand, taking Ozai down with it.  He grappled against the wall, his other hand barely managing to hook onto an obtruding rock before falling too far, but Katara knew he wasn’t going to make it on his own.

She reached the top and laid herself across the ledge, extending her arm down.

“Take my hand!” she called out to him.

Ozai’s jaw was clenched and he looked sick from the pain and blood loss.  But with a deep breath, he swung his arm up and grasped her hand, wincing with a stifled grunt.  Katara helped pull him up and finally the two of them jumped down on the other side, fleeing as quickly as their weary bodies could manage into the darkening forest.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko paced with arms crossed, glaring down at the two unfortunate guards chosen to report to him. 

“You lost his trail _?_!” he fumed, flailing his arms.  “What sort of answer is that?”  The guards shrunk back, each looking at the other for words. 

The letter Zuko had received wrote of a confirmed sighting of their targets, requesting that he arrive at the location post-haste to discuss their next move.  It hadn’t mentioned anything about Ozai and Katara having slipped through their fingers.

“I told you to extend your search, to be ready for anything!  I didn’t say he’d be at a tavern down the road having a quiet drink.”

“It’s not like that, my lord,” one guard spoke up.  “He climbed the wall and when we raced out to find them, they were gone.”

Zuko stood up straight and smoothed his cloak, scowling from one cowed man to the other.  “I don’t care if he’s hiding out in an igloo at the North Pole. I want him found!”


	20. Chapter 20

It was a half hour later, Katara guessed, when they came upon a small cave-like den.  It looked like it once belonged to platypus-bears but had since been abandoned.  They hadn’t seen any sign of pursuit from the guards since they scaled the wall and she figured they’d put enough distance between them that they could stop and rest a while.  Besides, Ozai’s condition was worsening by the minute and it looked like he was about to give out.

With his arm draped over her neck, she half dragged him into the den and slowly laid him down on his back.  Ozai groaned at contact with the cold, hard earth.  He winced and took a shallow breath as his listless eyes fluttered open to look at her.  His face was so pale.  The entire left side of his cloak was soaked in blood and his breathing was growing irregular.  For a moment she was afraid he might be dying.  She quickly reminded herself that she didn’t care.

“Let me take a look at it,” she said as she started to peel the cloak away from his sticky, blood-soaked body.  Before she could remove it, he reached up and swatted her hand away.

“I’ll be fine,” he mumbled.  “Just let me rest.”

Katara wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream.  She had never known someone to be so obstinate, so proud as to refuse help when their life was hanging in the balance.  She could grant him his wish, leave him to his fate, but she knew he likely wasn’t thinking clearly, growing delirious from the loss of blood.

“Just relax,” she said, ignoring his request.  This time he didn’t fight her.  He was growing too weak.  She peeled his cloak off and then his shirt and had to stifle a gasp.  A deep, ragged wound bore into his side, dotted with shards of wood.  Blood was still seeping freely from the wound.  Katara swallowed hard and shifted her gaze to meet his eyes.

“It’s pretty bad,” she admitted softly.   “I can heal you.  But only if you let me.”

At first he didn’t respond.  His empty eyes lingered on hers a moment longer before sliding closed.  He sighed a pained exhale and nodded faintly.  That was good enough for her.

With her fingers splayed out at his side, she drew as much water from the earth around them as she could and placed her hands around his wound.  “This might hurt a little,” she said quietly, unable to mask the pity in her tone. 

The water began to glow, softly at first then brighter and brighter.  Ozai’s jaw clenched, his brows knit together.  His fingers dug into the clammy earth, hands squeezing into fists as he arched his back, letting out a painful hiss that quickly escalated into a loud groan.  The wound was starting to close, the ragged edges of skin shrinking toward each other.   But it was healing more slowly than she’d expected.  The damage must have been worse than she thought.  Her arms were beginning to tremble as she poured every shred of energy she had into his wound.  Just when she thought she might collapse, the wound finally fused into one flesh again, leaving a web-shaped scar as the only trace of its existence.

His body went limp as Katara heaved a sigh of exhaustion, slumping back on her knees.  She wiped the sweat from her brow before turning her attention back to Ozai, lying motionless on the ground.  At first she was afraid something had gone wrong when she noticed the slow, subtle rise and fall of his chest.  He must have passed out from fatigue once the pain finally subsided.

She tore an unsoiled scrap of fabric from his shirt and bent water onto his skin, wiping away as much of the dried blood as she could.  Wringing out the crimson rag, she balled up the blood-soaked garments and threw them to the side.  The cold water that clung to her hands made her shiver.  As her heartbeat began to slow, she realized how chilly it was in the twilight, on the hard, stony floor of the den.  It would only grow colder as the night crept on.

Katara glanced around, straining to see in the dark.  She didn’t see any sign of the new equipment Ozai might have picked up.  Had they truly come away empty handed between the two of them?  What were they going to do now?

She chewed on her lip, circling through thought after futile thought as she studied Ozai’s comatose body lying half-naked on the ground.  In his condition, he would need to be kept as warm as possible for his body to regain its lost energy.  The obvious answer was to share body heat, but that was out of the question.  _Way_ out.  The second obvious answer was to give him her cloak, but without it she would surely freeze and risk her own health.   Eventually she decided that, of the two of them, he needed it more than she did.  She was hardwired to deal with the cold, granted not typically without proper covering.  But what other choice did she have?

Unfastening her cloak, she spread it out as wide as she could, ensuring that he was fully covered and tucking it around him to seal in his body heat.  She rubbed her arms, her skin prickling against the brisk night air, and laid herself down a short distance away.  She shivered against the frigid earth, curling into a ball to try to keep warm.  Despite the cold, it didn’t take long before her thoughts grew distant, exhaustion ushering her into a deep and dreamless sleep.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The cawing of a lonely raven stirred her from her slumber.  Katara’s mind was groggy, her eyelids impossibly heavy.  And she had no intention of opening them.  Not yet.  Instead she nestled deeper into her spot on the ground, reveling in the soothing warmth around her.  With a sigh she rolled over and felt her body push up against something warm and firm…

_…Warm…?  Wait a minute…_

Her body froze as her eyes shot open.  The edge of her cloak was wrapped around her body.  The cloak she’d placed on Ozai.  A sick feeling was roiling in her stomach.  Turning her head, her dismay turned to horror.  There was Ozai lying right beside her, her back pressed up against his chest.  For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.  The nausea began to mingle with that all-too-familiar fluttering in her stomach.  The reaction made her want to gag.

How _?_!  How had this happened _?_!  She must have scooted toward him in her sleep during the night, her body’s instinctive attempt to keep warm.  It was the only explanation.  Oh gods…

Ozai remained unmoving, his breathing slow and even.  Maybe there was still a chance he hadn’t noticed.  Ever so slowly, Katara inched away from him, praying that he wouldn’t wake up.  The cloak slid down her back and onto the ground as she dragged herself along the floor of the den, stopping only when she thought she’d put enough distance between them , and froze, listening.  Still not a sound from Ozai.  Katara closed her eyes and released a long, silent breath.  Thank the sweet spirits, she dodged that humiliation.

“Leaving so soon?” a deep voice drawled behind her.

Katara’s stomach dropped like a rock as her entire body cringed.  She felt a wave of heat sweep over her face and neck, her fingers and toes curling.  How long had he known she was there _?_!  Why hadn’t he moved or said something?  No, no, this could not be happening!  Please, spirits, let this all just be a terrible dream.

“If you wished to sleep in my arms, you could have just said so.”

Katara winced and turned to glower at him.  He certainly seemed to be recovering just fine.  Back to his normal, aggravating self.  Oh, joy.

“For your information, I fell asleep by myself, curled up in a tiny ball to keep from freezing while _you_ slept under my nice warm cloak.  I didn’t have to give it to you, but I did.  And while you may like to believe that you’re the gods’ gift to women, I actually have no idea how I ended up there but I can assure you it was _not_ intentional.  Sorry to burst your oversized ego.”

She crossed her arms in a huff, gritting her teeth, her irritation mounting.

 “Besides,” she snapped, “since we didn’t manage to buy the equipment we needed, I made what I thought was the best decision under the circumstances.”

Ozai tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at her.  “The equipment is right here.”  He gestured toward the pile of bloody clothes she discarded last night, overlapping what she could see now was Ozai’s satchel packed with gear and clothing.  “So you can continue to exhaust your feeble excuses, or you can simply admit what we both know is the truth.”

He smirked at her as her eyes went wide with dread.  Another swell of embarrassment wrenched her gut.  How hadn’t she seen that last night _?_!

Her mouth gaped open, struggling to find the words that so inconveniently eluded her.  “I– It was dark!  Obviously if I’d known that, I would’ve done things differently!  And there were a few other things on my mind,” she spat, “one of which was saving _you_!  Next time, maybe I shouldn’t bother.”

A throaty chuckle morphed into a wheezy cough as Ozai clutched his side, grimacing.  After a moment, his features softened, a subtle curl to one corner of his mouth.

“Relax.  I was only joking.”

Katara’s shoulders loosened a degree as she cast her glare downward.  Stupid to let him toy with her like that.  Again.  She reacted just the way he wanted.  As upset as she was, a part of her wouldn’t let her completely resent him.  That had almost seemed like an apology.  Or as close to one as she’d ever get.  That was certainly the last thing she’d ever expect, coming from him.

The two of them sat in awkward silence for some time until finally, to her relief, it was Ozai’s voice that interrupted it. 

“Alright, listen,” he began, clearing his throat, “I know I’m only here right now because of what you did last night.  That isn’t lost on me.  So…”  He faltered a moment, his eyes shifting before fixating on the rocky earth.  “Thank you.”  The last two words tumbled off his lips under his breath as his gaze singed the ground, as though it took every last ounce of his energy to force them into utterance.

Katara raised her head and blinked, eyebrows lifted.  Now she was really confused.  She knew what she heard, or at least what she thought she heard.  But she couldn’t think of anyone less likely to say it.

“Umm… you’re welcome…”  Katara narrowed her eyes, studying his face, searching for the treachery she knew was there somewhere.  It was always there.  The ulterior motives, the cunning lies.  Surely this was just another trick.

But his face showed no trace of insincerity as his eyes raised to meet hers again.  Not a hint of deceit or malice, or even the maddening smirk she’d come to know so well.  For once, his expression was genuine, honest; seemingly unclouded by the usual veil of duplicity.  And as his earnest amber eyes pierced into her, unmoving, Katara felt a twinge in her stomach as a wave of heat tingled up her arms to her face, burning a deep red.  Quickly, she turned her face away.

“I’ll go find us some firewood,” she mumbled over her shoulder as she stood up and shuffled out of the den.

Katara squinted into the pale grey of the morning, taking in a ragged breath and releasing it slowly.  The sun was rising modestly, shivering behind a curtain of cold haze, vying for its place in the sky.  How had it come to this?  Nothing made sense anymore.  She’d been praying for rescue for so long, and what did she do when it came?  Run in the other direction.  While saving Ozai’s life, no less.  And what terrified her most about him was that she no longer felt terrified _of_ him, not in the way she should.  Didn’t she want to be rescued?

She didn’t know what she wanted anymore.  She wasn’t sure what was real anymore.  Who to trust.  Who to fight.  How to feel… 

Especially how to feel.  She no longer had the energy to sustain the denial.  She knew what this was.  And now she was standing on that precipice; her only choice now was whether to jump or back away.

The naked treetops nodded in the wind, its whispering the only sound in the hush of the forest.  She hugged her arms around herself in the chill, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.  If everything Ozai had told her about Zuko was true, and she had no reason to believe it wasn’t, things could never be the same between them even if she did get rescued.  And as for Aang… she had no doubt that he had forsaken her.  She was likely dead to him.  But with Ozai, everything was clear cut, spelled out.  Expectations were laid out.  There was no guess work, no pretense to uphold.  And she’d remained safe and unharmed thus far.  He had even protected her.  And she was sure now that a part of him even cared for her.  But could men like Ozai ever really change?

 _Zuko changed_ , a voice in her head reminded her.

Katara dropped her gaze with an acquiescent sigh.  Yes, she’d made her decision.  She knew where her place was now.  It wasn’t the kind of life she’d imagined or dreamed of for herself, but it was her life now.  As crazy as it was to admit, she was more or less comfortable with Ozai.  And if she were really honest, her feelings for him went beyond mere innocence.

Admitting that to herself was like letting go of the lead balloon holding her down.  She suddenly felt weightless, free.  And like taking that first step of faith from the edge of the cliff, she was ready to take the plunge.  It takes courage to jump.  And right now she was feeling very courageous.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Genshi held her fingertips over Sokka’s temples, her eyes squeezed shut.  Her head was already pounding from the energy surging between them, but the vision was materializing with greater speed than before – a mottled mess of browns and greys, then the vague shapes of rocks and trees, a cave.  And then she saw them.  Blurry at first, but the two forms and contrasting skin tones hovering so close together were unmistakable.

And that was what bothered her.

There was something off about them, something that stirred the pit of her stomach.  Nevermind the fact that the urgency she had seen before seemed absent.  There was something else.  It was the way Katara seemed to slump down so comfortably next to her captor, the way he seemed so at ease to let her roam about unrestrained.  Their too-casual body language that spoke of anything but a captive scenario. 

But it was Katara’s aura that made her skin crawl most of all.  Where the orange hues of distress and grief had clouded the pure white around her, there were now sparks and flashes of lavender and turquoise.  She had never seen anything like it.  But it certainly didn’t look like distress.

As though in confirmation, a dark-skinned hand placed itself tenderly on porcelain flesh, marred by a fresh scar.  The way Katara’s hand stroked the area, tending to it so gently made her throat tighten.

Genshi pulled her hands back more quickly than she intended.

“What?” Sokka asked, startled.  “Did you see something?  Is Katara okay?”

Genshi swallowed and forced a smile.  “Oh yes, she’s fine.  Sorry, it’s just… my head.  It just hurts, that all.”

“Well, can you find her?  How far have they gotten?”

“Not far, I think.  But we better move fast.”  She turned and gestured to the others to follow her.

“Why, what’s wrong?  Did something happen?”  Sokka grabbed her arm, his brows furrowed as she turned to face him.

He must not have picked up what she had seen, she realized.  Hopefully she could keep it that way.

“Well, she _is_ a hostage to the Fire Lord’s crazy father,” she smiled sheepishly.  “But no, she’s perfectly fine.”  The reply came out cloying, exaggerated.  She cursed herself inwardly and tried to relax her posture.  “I just don’t want to lose them again when they might be close.”

“Oh.  Right.”  Sokka rubbed the nape of his neck.  “Well… carry on then.”

Genshi nodded and turned to press on when Suki’s voice rang out.

“Umm, guys.”   Genshi sighed and came to a halt.  All eyes turned to the warrior girl, leaning over Appa’s saddle with widened eyes.  “Aang’s awake.”


	21. Chapter 21

Fog curled around the trees like a dragon’s final exhale as Aang lied in Appa’s saddle, his cold eyes staring up at the friends huddled around him.  He didn’t say a word or even smile – he just sat up and stared at them callously, his eyes shifting to meet their respective gazes.

“Oh, Aang,” Suki cooed, placing a tender hand on his shoulder.  “We’re so glad you’re back.  Not a moment too soon.  We’re so close to finding Katara, but we really need your help to –”

“Stop touching me.”  Suki gasped as Aang drew back, his face twisted into a sour expression.  “How did I – why am I here?  I’m supposed to be in the spirit world.  Where is Jaaku?”

Sokka cocked an eyebrow at the warrior girl and then back at Aang.  “Who?”  The friends exchanged concerned glances.  Something wasn’t right.  “Aang did you hear what we said?” Sokka asked, gripping the boy’s shoulder to draw his attention.  Aang didn’t look at him.  “We’re hot on their trail.  We could have Katara back safely as soon as today.”  He paused and grasped both of Aang’s shoulders, turning his body toward him.  “But we need you.”

Aang turned to Sokka then, brows drawn low over his hardened eyes.  “Oh yeah, she needs me when she’s in trouble.  Didn’t seem like she needed me when everything was fine.  When Mai caught her locking lips in the arms of my friend.  _Ex_ -friend.”  He shot a blistering glare at Zuko.  The Fire Lord’s posture deflated as he scowled at the ground.  “Why should I run to her rescue?  So she can double cross me again?”  Aang waved them off, jumping down from Appa’s saddle and began walking away.  “Forget it.”

“Aang!”  Zuko jumped down after him.  “This isn’t only about Katara, or me, or _you_.  Put aside your personal vendetta for one second and _think_.  We have to deal with my father.  If you walk away right now, you’ll be condemning the world and everyone you love to despair.  The world can’t handle another reign of terror under Ozai.”  Aang didn’t turn around, he just kept walking.  Zuko grasped a fistful of hair, his jaw tightening.  “You’re the Avatar,” he called after him.  “It’s your responsib –”

“That’s right, I AM the Avatar!!” Aang spun around, his tattoos and eyes glowing brightly.  His feet hovered above the ground as he began to levitate, climbing higher in the air.  “I am the most powerful being in the entire universe!  The very strands of fate are mine to bend if I so choose.”  The boy’s innocent face was becoming unrecognizable, contorting wildly with rage.  His words echoed with that ethereal chorus of ancient voices.  “And foolishly you have chosen to defy me, toiling to save that hussy despite her flagrant betrayal.”

Zuko watched in dismay as a swirling vortex of dark clouds formed at the Avatar’s feet and whirled around him, tearing apart the foliage below.  He could feel his ears popping with the surging air pressure as a sudden burst of wind knocked him off balance.

“Aang, stop!” he shouted.  “Please!  We’re still your friends!”

Dirt and debris were tearing through the air, stinging their faces.  Zuko shielded his eyes as a large chunk of earth was ripped from the ground beside him, and then another, hurtling through the air to encircle Aang.  A ragged hoop of fire blazed around him, and then a thrashing ring of water, all whisking around him violently like an angry galaxy.

“You have chosen your side,” Aang’s voice boomed.  “And you – you are no friends of mine!”

With one deep breath, the Avatar sent all four elements blasting toward Zuko and the others.

“Aang, no!”  His voice was stifled in the chaos.  Zuko choked on a mouthful of dirt as he assumed a defensive stance.  But it was so hard to see.  In the debris that ripped around them, he never saw the boulder that came reeling from behind.

A loud crack, a jolt of pain.  The world slanted out of focus.

And then there was darkness.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The soft morning mist was still sleeping in the trees as Katara gently bent a ribbon of water up from the stream and plunked it down again.  She wasn’t sure how long she had been at it, but her body was still mindlessly repeating the motions when she emerged from her daydream.  The soothing push and pull of her element had a soporific effect on her at times.  How she had missed the feel of the water as one with her body.  How she had taken the freedom of it for granted.

Watching her hands as they glided through the motions, she noticed the dirt in the creases of her knuckles and caked under her fingernails.  On closer inspection, her arms were also a blotched and crusted mess of dirt and dried blood from last night.  She could only imagine what condition her face and hair were in.  How long had it been since her last real bath?  She knew Ozai was waiting for her to return with the water, but surely he could spare just a few more minutes in the name of cleanliness.

Katara checked behind her to make sure she was alone and then quickly stripped off her dress and bindings and immersed herself into the stream with a long sigh.  The water was cold and biting, her hair bristling as it nipped at her mocha skin, but it felt so good to watch the dirt fade from her body.  After a good scrubbing and dunking herself under the surface one last time, she reluctantly forced herself to get out, flicking the water from her body with a shake of her hand.  Her shoulders slumped at her grubby old dress lying in a heap on the ground.  It looked so much filthier now that she felt clean.  The pale yellow looked more grey under the layers of dirt.  Pursing her lips, she reached down to retrieve it and stopped short.  The red dress!  She had almost forgotten.  It seemed a silly thing to wear out in the middle of the woods, but in the meantime she could give her other dress a decent washing.   And besides, she could use a good morale booster right now.

She opened her satchel and pulled out the long red garment, holding it up before her.  A small smile brightened her face.  It was just as pretty as she remembered it.  Pulling it over her head, she wriggled into it and smoothed the fabric down with her hands, twisting around to her inspect herself.  The gold and black hem detailing was exquisite, the black sash around her waist so dainty.  Her posture lengthened in approval as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and grinned.

“What in Agni’s name are you wearing?”

Katara yelped and spun around to see Ozai gaping at her, his brows pulled together as though he were inspecting a dangerous animal.

“What, this?”  She glanced down and tousled the skirt of her garment.  “I bought it back at that market.  Sorry, I couldn’t resist.  I thought it was pretty.”

Ozai huffed, raising an incredulous eyebrow.  “You thought it was… pretty.”  A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth until it stretched across his face, erupting into a vicious laugh.  “Do you have any idea what you’re wearing?”

One arm crossed her chest to grasp her opposite arm.  She suddenly felt like the butt of a cruel joke.  “It’s just… a dress.  What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh yes, it’s a dress,” he said, stepping toward her.  “The sort of dress worn in the Fire Nation meant to be seen by the eyes of one’s lover only.  This dress is a symbol for… how can I put this delicately?”  In two more strides Ozai was before her, burning her with that fiery gaze.  “Desire and intimacy.”

Her mouth went dry, an ache in the back of her throat.  “Oh, gods,” she croaked out.  “You mean this is Fire Nation lingerie?!”

Despite the satiny red fabric on her skin, she suddenly felt naked.  Katara hugged her arms across her bosom, hoping it would make her invisible.  That old crone who sold it to her… Katara knew she’d looked at her funny when she picked it out.

“Well – stop staring then!” she snapped.  “How was I supposed to know?”

“I would think it rather obvious, paper thin satin and all.”  He traced a V on his chest that mirrored her low neckline.  “Am I honestly to believe that you chose just such a dress by mistake?  That you donned it for amusement’s sake in the moments before returning with the water?”

Her face was burning now.  She was sure her skin was beginning to match her dress.  How could she have been so stupid?!  “Yes!” she spat.  “My clothes are filthy – there’s dried blood on them.”  She thrust an exasperated finger toward the pile of clothes.  “They have to be washed and this is all I have.”

“I see.  How convenient.”  His eyes narrowed with a hard smile as he leaned in slightly.  “First, you _accidentally_ wake up in my arms and now you just _happen_ to have purchased a racy, suggestive garment.  You know, I would never have pegged a Water Tribe woman like yourself as such a desperate seductress.”

Katara flinched.  Her heartbeat felt heavy, sluggish.  He was _such_ a megalomaniac.  “Ugh!  Think what you want,” she snarled, turning her back and yanking her soiled clothes off the ground.  “I’m gonna clean them here before we leave, so I can end your narcissistic fantasy.”

She thought she heard him chuckle under his breath.  “Well, make it quick,” he replied, ignoring her snarky comment.  “I’m going to douse the fire and gather our things.”  He turned to leave and then stopped, half facing her.   “Oh and, Katara…”  His eyes flitted down her figure and then back up to settle on her gaze.  “Do us both a favor and put your cloak back on.”

Her frown hardened into a scowl as she watched him leave.  In a flurry, she stomped to the stream bank and plunged the soiled, bloody dress into the water, scrubbing furiously.  How dare he suggest she knowingly bought lingerie in an attempt to seduce him like some sleazy harlot?  She had some self-respect!  But that wasn’t enough.  Then he had to insult her by implying she was painful to look at in such a state.  Sure, she’d seen prettier girls – maybe her hips were too slender and her breasts were a bit modest and she had a few scars – but was she really that bad looking?

Unless…

Katara blinked and looked up, her thoughts trailing off.  The clothes swayed gently in the current as her hands slackened, lips parting as a new thought formed itself in her mind.  Unless he had liked the way she looked.  That could explain his dismayed expression when he stumbled upon her, the overstated teasing, that momentary fire as their eyes met.  And the reason he told her to cover up.  So he wouldn’t be tempted by her.  It seemed almost… gentlemanly of him.  Was that even possible?

If there was one thing Katara was learning lately, it was that anything is possible and some things are not as they seem.  If it were true that Ozai was attracted to her, that would change everything about her situation, about their relationship.  She would be forced to contend with her own feelings for him so soon, robbed of the luxury of sorting through them at her own pace.

Her eyes closed as she shook her head, releasing a sigh.  Maybe she was getting ahead of herself.  She didn’t know if any of that were true.  But if it were…

Was she ready for that?

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

It had taken every last shred of their efforts combined to subdue Aang.  When they finally did, it proved no easy task to keep him there.

“Find some rope, fetters, anything!  We’ve got to tie him down!” Hakoda bellowed as Aang flailed and snarled under his muscley grasp.  Appa’s saddle rocked and swayed under the force of the boy’s thrashing.  “I can’t hold him much longer!”

Sokka unhooked Appa’s reigns and staggered toward his father, wrapping the leather around Aang’s hands and feet as quickly as he could and then secured it tightly to the saddle.

Hakoda and Sokka both fell back with a groan, joining the others who were clutching at their gashes and bruises and catching their breath.

Zuko sat up slowly, his head still throbbing.  Blood was oozing from a large gash in his head, trickling down his forehead into his eye.  He wiped it away with his sleeve and squinted through the pain.  It took a moment for his eyes to focus before he could make out the extent of the damage Aang inflicted.

Trees lay on their sides, some broken in half, ripped up by the roots.  Huge chunks were missing from the ground, nearby trees and patches of earth scorched and sizzling.  Appa’s saddle was tilting to the side, riddled with debris and streaks of blood.  Around him, his friends groaned and tended their wounds.  There were black eyes, bruises, gashes, sprained joints.  But thankfully they were all still intact.  It could have been worse.  Much worse.

“I guess – it’s safe – to assume there’s something wrong with Aang,” Sokka panted, sprawled on the floor of the saddle.  Aang writhed and roared beside him, his words muffled by the gag in his mouth.

From the corner of his eye, Zuko saw Genshi shift nervously, deliberately lowering her gaze.  There was an air of unease in her posture, like she knew something they didn’t.  Then he remembered.

“Genshi, you said something about Aang’s aura before.  Something about the line between good and evil.  If there’s something you’re not telling us…”

All eyes were pinned on Genshi now.  The young woman sighed and looked up.  “It’s worse than I thought.  I had hoped that I’d just caught him at a low point and that his aura would brighten with time.  But seeing him like this…”  She swallowed hard and shook her head.  “…It’s obvious that something sinister is going on inside him.  Good, peaceful people like Aang don’t transform into _this_ without cause.  Something must have happened to bring about such an ominous change in your friend.  Think back – was there ever a time when Aang had a close brush with evil, one that may have nearly destroyed him?”

The friends looked at each other, eyes widening with the same realization.  “Uh, actually yeah,” Sokka said.  “On the day of the comet, when he fought Fire Lord Ozai, Aang energybent his firebending away.  But he almost didn’t make it.  He was so close to being corrupted by Ozai’s energy that I thought we’d lost him.”  His expression tightened at the memory.    “Do you think that could have something to do with it?”

“Yes,” she nodded, stone-faced.  “Our energies are like a fingerprint.  We cannot touch another’s energy without it leaving an imprint, however faint, on our souls.  That’s why energybending can be so dangerous.  Every time we touch another’s energy, a part of them stays with us.  It’s likely that Aang’s had this buried inside him since the comet, but it was lying dormant, waiting for the opportune moment to awaken and strike.”

Her eyes flicked to Zuko and then down to her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“Is there any way to help him?”  Sokka asked.

Genshi chewed on her lip in thought.  “If we found a way to purify his energy, I believe the darkness within him would be cleansed away.  But in order to do this, we’d have to seek out a spiritual healer or someone highly skilled in energybending to extract the darkness left behind by Ozai.  I’m not sure we have that kind of time.”

“We definitely don’t,” Toph asserted.  “We finally have Katara right under our noses.  It’d be crazy to just up and leave now.”

 “But doing this without Aang could be suicide.”  Suki leaned forward, one hand on her stiff neck.  “We’ve all seen what Ozai’s capable of.  Even if we caught up to them now and decided to untie Aang, he’d surely turn on us instead.”  Her eyes darted between her friends as her voice lowered.  “With both Aang and Ozai to fight, our chances would be slim to none.”

“Well what do we do then?”  Sokka’s bewildered tone spoke for all of them.

Zuko studied his friends, a huddled up mess of battered bodies.  They were in no condition to confront his father.  If he was desperate enough to devise such an elaborate prison break and go through this much trouble, he wouldn’t go down without a deadly fight.  But they couldn’t turn back now, not when they were so close.  Visions of Katara – bound and gagged, defenseless – kept running through his mind.  She was likely terrified.  There was no telling what kind of terrible things she’d already suffered by Ozai’s hand.  He couldn’t betray her like that.

He blinked away the cloud of thoughts to find the others all staring at him.  His eyebrows lifted in question.

“It’s your call, Zuko,” Hakoda nodded grimly.

Zuko ran a hand through his hair down to the back of his neck.  He stared past them at nothing for a long moment.

“They’ve slipped through our fingers for too long now,” he said at length.  “If we forfeit this chance to catch them, we may never get another opportunity.”  He sat up straighter and squared his jaw.  “We have to try.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai cut back through the forest in large strides, his fists clenched tightly as his sides.  Hard as he tried, he could not shake the image of that waterbender in that scandalous garment from his mind.  Dazzling blue eyes playing off deep crimson, cascading even more brilliantly over her chocolate skin.  There was not a curve on her body that wasn’t accentuated by the thin fabric, leaving very little work for his imagination.  Damn that girl.

He hadn’t gotten far when a strange guttural groan somewhere in the distance froze him in place.  He listened hard, his eyes darting across the landscape.  It could be a platypus-bear or a giant rhino-hog, but somehow he knew that didn’t fit.  The sound was different somehow, exotic, and yet vaguely familiar though he couldn’t place why.  It didn’t come again and he almost wondered if he had imagined it when another sound pierced the silence.  It was the distant sound of dead branches crushing underfoot though amplified a hundred fold, as though under the weight of fire navy tank.  And then human voices, one of which he swore he recognized.  Almost too faint to detect but unmistakable. 

A surge of adrenaline made his hair stand on end as the realization hit him.  The Avatar’s bison.  His wretched disgrace of a son.  How had they tracked him here?!  By Agni, he’d be damned if he was going down now.  Not when he had come this far.

Turning heel, he stormed back toward the stream to find the girl knelt on the bank.  The clothes hung loosely from her limp hands, still dripping with water.  She didn’t seem to notice him.

He stepped forward and gripped her arm, dragging her up to standing.

“Ow, hey!  What are you doing?” she yelped.

“Quiet!” he hissed.  “We need to go.  Now.”  He began hauling her behind him, bolting as quietly as possible back to the den.  They’d gone through too much trouble to abandon their things, and he didn’t want to leave any evidence of their presence. 

As he scanned the forest for any sign of approach from his pursuers, he suddenly realized how thin the forest had become under autumn’s cool breath.  If he ran, there would be no cover to veil him.  They’d spot his movements with ease and be upon him in no time.  A web of expletives was spinning under his breath.  He couldn’t let it end this way.  There was a way out of this, he just had to find it.

They reached the den and Ozai stuffed their loose gear into his satchel and slung it over his shoulder.  He stomped out what remained of the fire and whipped out his map. 

“What is going on?” Katara asked.  “Who are we running from?”

“Shh, just trust me.”  Ozai didn’t look up, his eyes darting frantically over the hand-sketched diagram.   They could cut straight up north, beeline to Frostbite Cove where Jiao was stationed.  He’d have reinforcements then.  It was just a matter of getting there.  Of course, they’d have to contend with the Bashou Mountains, those forsaken peaks; no easy task and he’d heard the stories.  But right now, it was the best option.  The only option.

The plan now was to hide out, wait for those imbeciles to pass and then bolt north.  He looked around the den, his attention turning toward the far end where the walls became swallowed by darkness.

“Come on.”  He gestured for Katara to follow, their footsteps a shallow echo against the low ceiling.  The light diminished behind them as they made their way into the darkness.  But where Ozai expected it to continue, he was met with a solid rock wall.  He cursed under his breath.  It wasn’t far enough.  There was no way they could stay out of sight if they were tracked into the den.

Ozai skimmed the enclosure, feeling around for any protrusion or cavity that might act as a shield.  His hands ran along the jagged wall, searching for anything he might have missed in the dark, when his fingers fell upon a small gap running down the wall.  Following the gap toward the floor, he found it split into the mouth of a narrow opening between the wall and the floor, descending into what looked like a hollow underneath the den.  He stooped down and peered inside.  It looked just big enough for the two of them to squeeze into.

“This way,” he whispered, sliding onto the ground and lowering himself down.

“What?!  No way.  There could be anything in there.”

“Nothing worse than what I’ll do to you if you don’t do as you’re told.”  His voice was stern, but he knew the threat came out empty.  He steeled his scowl, hoping to mask his desperation.

The girl heaved a frustrated sigh and knelt down, grumbling as she carefully slid her legs through the opening, her dress scraping against the toothy surface.  She reached up to anchor herself on the wall as Ozai grasped her waist to guide her through.  The mounds of her breasts hovered at his eye level, not a sliver of skin untraced beneath that thin satin.  He tried to swallow, his throat constricting, and averted his eyes.

A chunk of rock crumbled under the girl’s grasp, dropping her down hard as she shielded her face.  Pebbles rained down from the wall with an ominous groan.  Katara and Ozai froze, bracing themselves.  Nothing happened.  Without hesitation, she began wriggling herself down more quickly.  Another piece of the wall broke apart as Ozai pulled her through the opening.  No sooner had her feet touched the ground than the entire wall came tumbling down into the hollow, huge rocks barreling toward them.  In an instant, Ozai jerked Katara into him and spun her against the wall, pressing himself as close as possible to evade the rockslide.

The tumult was deafening.  He ducked his neck over her as a large boulder skimmed his shoulder, another crashing into the back of his leg.  A grunt of pain escaped through clenched teeth as the warm trickle of blood oozed down his calf.  Ozai steeled himself for another blow, but none came.  There was only the grinding of stone as it settled into place, the pattering of pebbles as they bounced off the rubble.

The air was thick with dust and silence.  Ozai coughed, tasting grit on his tongue.  It wasn’t until he noticed the echo of their rapid breathing, amplified in the confined space, that he realized how closely he was pressed against Katara.  _The waterbender_ , he reminded himself.  In the pitch darkness, he couldn’t make out her face but noticed that she didn’t shift or draw away from him.  She remained there against the wall, her breasts rising heavily into his chest with each breath.  And then he realized that he had made no effort to move away either.  His lips parted slightly at the awareness, eyes searching in the dark to read her face, her body language.  But there was only darkness, thick and heavy, and the warmth of her body pinned against him.

_Darkness…_

That’s when it dawned on him.  What little light had filtered though the passageway was gone.  He blinked and drew back, turning to see a black void where the entrance had stood.  They were trapped.  He cursed under his breath and pushed himself off the wall, stepping toward the mountain of heavy stones and rubble.  The darkness was absolute but he could feel his way along the rubble.  Maybe they could dig themselves out.  He grasped a stone and heaved upward.  It didn’t even budge.  He tried again in another spot.  It was no use.  The wall had come apart in giant slabs; what looked like a manageable rock was only the face of a deeply reaching block of stone. 

He groaned and rubbed the arch of his brow.  Bad to worse – the anthem of his life.  From the day of his birth, nothing had ever come easy to him.  It was a curse.  Damn it all. 

“Ozai.”

The girl’s voice echoed from somewhere behind, pulling him from his thoughts.  Something about it stirred him deep in his core.  He didn’t remember her saying his name before.  He didn’t know why he cared.

“There’s a passage here.”  She gestured toward what looked like another wall of their prison.  But as he stepped closer, squinting into the dark, he could see a narrow break in the stone, like a corridor, bearing a slender path.

Ozai took the lead as they felt their way gingerly in the unyielding darkness, snaking through twists and bends, their arms scraping against cold fists of stone.  He started to wonder if it was a good idea to follow a strange claustrophobic path with no knowledge of what awaited them at the end.  But he decided it was better than the alternative and there was no use turning back now.

He wasn’t sure if it was a strange trick of his eyes.  A faint light seemed to be glowing from somewhere in the distance.  Sleep must be catching up to him.  Maybe his body wasn’t at full capacity just yet.  Ozai rubbed his eyes for a moment.  When he opened them, the light was still there.  Odd.

As they progressed, it became obvious that it wasn’t his imagination.  The light was glowing brighter, a clear blueish-white leaking through an opening in the tunnel up ahead.  “There must be an exit up here,” he said over his shoulder.  “Come on.”

He quickened his pace, the girl’s footsteps speeding up to match his own.  All was not lost after all.  They would slip past his son’s pitiable search party without a trace and maybe even cut out some of their route.  He really could not have planned it better himself.  It was about time he had a change of luck.

Ozai charged through the exit, prepared to revel in their salvaged freedom, when the ground beneath him suddenly seemed to vanish, loose rocks tumbling down below him as he recovered his bearings.  The girl passed through after him and gasped as she lost her footing.  He reached out and seized her arm, drawing her back just before she toppled over the edge.  Gripping the wall behind him with his other hand, he backed them up against it and anchored himself on the ridged surface.  His heart was thumping wildly as he struggled to regain his control. 

“No…” he breathed out a whisper.  This was supposed to lead them to freedom, not trap them deeper underground.  Now they were lost in the belly of the earth with no sense of direction and no obvious way out. 

As he took in their surroundings, he could only stare slack-jawed at the sight before him.  The passage had spit them out into an enormous cavern, the likes of which he had never before seen.  It was more like a cathedral in its massive size and they were standing at the top.  From the ceiling hung extensive stalactites and crystal formations, the latter of which were emanating a soft blue-white glow.  The crystals had taken over the cavern; suspending from the ceiling, veining down the towering walls, and even sprouting from the ground in jagged tendrils like razor-sharp anemones.  Far below, he could make out shallow pools of water, gleaming an opaque turquoise in the luminescent blue light.  Even the spores of dust that hovered in the air winked and glinted, reflecting the cerulean glow like specks of glitter.

Katara shifted beside him and he realized that he was still holding her arm.  He let go as she took a small step forward, gazing with wide-eyed amazement.

Her voice was a whisper, lost in an echo to the cavern’s fathomless reach.  “What is this place?”


	22. Chapter 22

Katara breathed in the cold, stagnant air, tasting the faint tang of wet rock.  The silence around them was heavy, ruptured only by their breathing and the resounding plink of water dripping from the lofty stalactites.   Her lips parted in awe as she gazed around the glowing cathedral.  The crystals had invaded the cavern like a beautiful parasite, stretching from the ceiling, snaking down the walls, boring up from the ground.  Giant mushrooms sprouted up in clusters along the floor down below, gleaming in the blue light and casting tree-like shadows around them.  It was hard to tell from up here, but Katara guessed they had to be at least half as tall as she was. 

This place…  She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that somehow she had been here before.  That she had seen these crystals before.  But of course that was not possible, she was certain of that. Why then couldn’t she quell the uneasy feeling the crystals evoked in the pit of her stomach.  She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something about them wasn’t right.

“We should make our way down, see if there’s an exit somewhere.”  Ozai’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked over to see him gesturing for her to follow.  “Come on.”

Katara hesitated.  She wanted to tell him to stop, that something didn’t feel right.  But she would look ridiculous and anyway what choice did they have?  It was probably just worked up nerves or exhaustion, maybe a vitamin deficiency.  She sighed and started following him down the steep precipice.

They descended slowly, taking careful steps from one ledge to another.  Rocks and pebbles crumbled beneath their feet, clattering in a faint echo as they plummeted down into the shadows.  Some of the ledges were slick with grime and condensation.  Katara’s hands were growing raw and sore from clutching the jagged rock, but it was all she could do at times to keep from falling.

It was a long and labored descent but finally Ozai and Katara planted their feet on the bottom of the cavern and looked around.  As beautiful as the crystals were from afar, they were even more magnificent up close.  Like moonlight captured inside immense blue diamonds.  A glimmer of hope in the darkness.  Shallow pools of water filled divots in the rocky floor, gleaming an opaque turquoise beneath the crystals.  The giant mushrooms she had seen from above were taller than she had expected, rising an inch or two higher than her head.

A sudden chill ran down Katara’s skin.  Being underground, the cold was absolute, permeating every fiber of her being.  She shivered and rubbed her hands over her prickly flesh.

“Here,” Ozai spoke beside her.  She looked over to see him holding out a heap of fabric.

“What’s this?”

“Put it on,” he said, shoving it into her hands.

She furrowed her brow and unfolded the fabric to reveal a warm hooded fur cloak.  “Wha…”  For a moment she couldn’t find the words.  “You’ve had this the whole time?  Why didn’t you give it to me before?!”

“Perhaps I might have, but you made it so amusing to keep it from you.”

“Ugh!  You had no right.  I’ve been freezing and parading around in Fire Nation _underwear_ while you were secretly laughing and enjoying the show.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself.  If I’d wanted a show, you’d know it.  It was amusing, that’s all.”

“Oh yes, that’s me – your comic relief!” she spat, whipping the coat over her shoulders and shoving her arms through the sleeves.  “Because watching a girl helplessly run around half naked and cold is _hilarious_.”

“Alright, that’s not what I meant.  I –”

A sound somewhere out of view in the darkness cut them short.  Something like the scuff of a footstep, but Katara couldn’t be sure.  Their eyes met with the same hint of apprehension.  She opened her mouth to say something but stopped short.  As though remembering a dream long forgotten, her eyes widened as the memory of the crystals flooded back to her.  Of course, Wan Shi Toh’s library.  She might have forgotten about that old worn book she had perused before the library sunk into the earth.  No wonder this place looked familiar, she’d seen these crystals in that book.  They were incredibly rare, only forming in few extraordinary places where the spirit world and the physical world struggled for dominance over each other.

Her stomach tightened.  Now she remembered.  The book mentioned that the warring energies of the two worlds was a magnet for dark spirits and evil beings.  The negative energy is what caused the crystals to glow.  That explained her eerie feeling.  Ironic, she thought, that something of darkness would bring about something so beautiful.

“Get back,” Katara whispered, grabbing his arm and pressing her back against the trunk of a mushroom.  “We need to find cover, now.”

Ozai cast her an incredulous glance.  “Why?  What do you know about this place?”

The echo of strained, shallow breathing wheezed in the distance, slowly growing closer with the shuffle of awkward, dragging footsteps.  Ozai’s eyes cut toward the sound.  His brows flinched, telling her he saw nothing.  His wary gaze darted back to hers.

“Not now,” she hissed.  “We need to go!”

She glanced around the side of the mushroom for the source but she too saw nothing.  It would be risky making a run for it when they weren’t even sure which way to run.  But waiting around until the… whatever it was… found them first seemed the lesser of the two options.

“Alright then, try to keep to the shadows and follow me,” Ozai spoke in a low voice.  He nodded toward the opposite side of the sanctuary, where a narrow corridor tunneled between the towering cliff and the wall.  It looked to be the only other passage leading away from this place.

They tiptoed their way around ruts and potholes, careful not to turn their ankles on free standing rocks.  They had barely reached the shadow of the next mushroom cluster when a throaty, sickening moan nearby made Katara’s blood run cold.  The two of them froze, eyes frantically scanning the cathedral.  That sound… simultaneously pitiable and chilling, like the sorrowful wail of a soul in agony.  Yet still, she saw nothing.

“Best to keep moving while we can,” Ozai whispered in her ear.

Katara nodded.  But as she turned away, something caught in her peripheral vision.  She turned back quickly to see a pale form appearing as though from thin air.  Katara gasped in horror as it took shape – the most grotesque creature she had ever laid eyes on.  The form was humanoid, but the likeness ended there.  Its gaunt body was covered with rolls of dull, sagging flesh, sallow and sickly as a corpse.  The thing was nearly faceless – no eyes to speak of in its naked head – save for two long slits for a nose and a mouth that gaped open in a neverending silent scream.

Katara wanted to cry out.  She wanted to run.  But the sound was throttled in her tightened throat, her feet glued to the ground.  She barely managed to reach back and catch Ozai’s sleeve before he was out of reach.  He turned around.

The creature’s head turned side to side in a disoriented manner, as though looking for something it could not see.  It released a deep, tormented moan through its cavernous mouth.

“What in the name of…”

Ozai’s voice trailed off.  The creature turned its head toward them and took an ungainly, lurching step forward.  A long, spindly arm reached out, the skin drooping pale and loose from the bone.  Its clawed hand, gnarled and crooked, swiped awkwardly at the air.

Instinctively Katara drew water from a nearby pothole and sent spikes of ice hurling at the entity.  The spears pierced its pallid flesh with a sickening thud.  She gasped as the ice instantly melted into water, dripping down its shriveled body.  The thing didn’t even bleed.

“We need to get out of here,” Ozai whispered.  “Now.”

As they began to back away from the monster, it took another clumsy step toward them and then another, each step growing faster than the last.  The hair raised on the nape of her neck as a similar agonized moan resounded behind them.  Ozai and Katara spun around to see an identical creature reaching out and staggering toward them.

Katara’s mouth went dry.  There was more than one…  She backed away and felt something tug on the foot of her cloak.  She spun around to see another one dragging its sagging body along the stone floor, clawing at her heels and wailing.  A string of saliva dripped from its gaping jaw.

She screamed as the hideous thing snatched a huge fistful of her cloak and pulled down hard.  She nearly tumbled to the ground when she felt Ozai’s hands clutch her from behind, yanking her from its grasp.

Within moments, the cathedral was crawling with the terrifying beasts hobbling toward them, their moans and cries filling the sanctuary with a spine-chilling chorus.  Ozai’s posture tensed.  He stole a quick glance at her and clutched her arm.

“Run.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“This is the place, I swear.  This is where they’re supposed to be.”

Genshi stood staring at the black smudge where a fire had been, trying to wrap her head around things.  She didn’t understand.  The vision had specifically led them here.  And this time, it wasn’t as though their targets had moved on before they arrived.  She could feel their presence around this place.  The problem was they weren’t here.

“Well, isn’t that just fantastic?” Sokka spat, pacing inside the mouth of the small den.  “Let’s all forget the fact that they’re _not_ here because, hey, at least this is where they’re _supposed_ to be!”

“Sokka,” Suki chided timidly.

He stopped and shot a tight scowl at the conjurer.  “I knew we shouldn’t have put all our trust in this whack job.  Now who knows where they might really be.”

“All right, let’s all just calm down,” Hakoda stepped in.  “Maybe we should hear her out.”  He nodded sternly at her and crossed his arms.  “Genshi, what’s going on?”

Genshi felt her hands go clammy as all eyes were set on her.  She picked at a hang nail and glanced toward the ground.

“Well, uh, actually…”  The words stumbled out in an awkward, high pitch.  She cleared her throat and tried again.  “I’m not exactly… sure.”

“I knew it,” Sokka growled.

“It’s never happened before!” she defended.  “I can’t explain it but I feel their presence, like they’re standing right here.”

“But they’re not here, are they?”  Sokka tightened his jaw like a fist ready to jab.  “You know what I think?” he continued, eyeing the rest of the group.  “I think we should just leave this nut case right here in this cave and continue on our own.  Trust our _instincts_.  Which, if we’d done earlier, would have told us not to rely on this lunatic.  We’ll probably find Katara a lot faster.”

“Okay, Sokka, you’ve made your point,” Zuko cut in.  He heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Look, it’s getting too late to do anything about it now.  We should set up camp here for the night.  We all need rest and arguing won’t help us find them faster.  In the morning we can decide what course of action to take.”

Toph huffed.  “Spoken like a true Fire Lord.”

“I’ll get a fire started,” Suki offered a bit too quickly, eager to quell the tension.

“I’ll unpack Appa and tend to Aang.”  Hakoda placed a gentle but firm grasp on his son’s shoulder.  “Sokka, why don’t you give me a hand.”

Sokka shoved his hands in his pockets and flashed the conjurer one last thunderous scowl before following his father toward the bison.

As the others got to work gathering firewood and rolling out sleeping bags, Genshi hugged her arms around herself and stared at her feet.  She had known this was a mistake from the beginning.  She had let Jun fool her into thinking she was still the conjurer she used to be, and now look.  She had made a terrible situation ten times worse.  Never mind what her senses were telling her.  The fact was she was wrong, plain and simple.  And now nothing was going to give them back the time she had lost.

~                      ~                      ~

The fire had died to embers as the rest of the group snored away.  Genshi sat on her sleeping bag alone on the opposite side of the den and stared at the glowing coals.  All her life she had been a social pariah.  Now she could add failure and fraud to the list.  Her presence amongst these people had done enough damage.  The least she could offer them now was her farewell. 

Her eyes felt hot with brimming tears.  She tried to choke them back but her throat felt thick.  She had had a fleeting taste of what it might be like to have friends.  But like the few good things that had graced her life, it wasn’t meant to be.  She would need to leave before dawn.  Before the others would wake.

Soft footsteps disturbed her silent languish.  Genshi glanced up to see the young blind girl standing over her, a silhouette against the waning firelight.

 “Toph!” she choked out, quickly wiping away the tears.

“Shh!” the girl hissed.  “Do you wanna wake up the whole camp?”

Genshi swallowed and gave a quick nod of understanding.  “What do you want?” she whispered, her eyes shifting to the sleeping forms on the other side of the den.

“I know there’s something you’re not telling us.  You’ve been acting extra weird ever since the last freaky conjuring thing you did on Sokka.”  Toph anchored her hands on her hips and leaned closer.  “You saw something in that vision that disturbed you.  A lot.  And I want to know what.”

Beads of sweat broke out on Genshi’s forehead.  “What?”  She forced out a muffled laugh that sounded more like a snort.  “Why would I be hiding anything?  From you guys?  That’s silly.”

The earthbender smirked down at her.  “Listen, toots, you’re about as transparent as Sokka’s sea prunes. I can read you like a book.  And you’re lying.  Now are you gonna spill the beans or am I gonna have to make you?”

Genshi flashed an innocent, half-hearted smile but the stone-faced expression on the young girl’s face didn’t budge.  She closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh.

“All right,” she surrendered with a grim shake of her head.  “But you won’t like what you’re about to hear.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai and Katara darted for the next mushroom cluster and tried to flatten themselves against the trunks.  Katara’s heartbeat was thrashing in her ears, her hands trembling.  They were trapped, surrounded by these horrific things.  Even the passageway would probably just lead them further underground.  There was no way out.

Katara tried to swallow but her throat was dry as cotton.  She licked her lips, tasting beads of sweat.  It was a moment before she realized the commotion had died down a bit.  Her muscles tensed.  Why?  It had to be some kind of trap.  Her body stiffened and she slowly peeked around the mushroom stalk.  The creatures had stopped pursuing them and were ambling about in bewildered circles.  Their heads turned side to side, their gaping mouths sighing woeful moans.

“They can’t see us.”  Ozai’s voice was hardly more than a breath in her ear.  “They can only detect us through sound or movement.”

Katara’s eyes widened at the revelation.  Of course, that explained it.  Maybe there was a flicker of hope after all.

“If we can reach that passage,” he continued, “and find a hideout maybe we can wait them out.”  He had read her mind.  They could outrun them for a short time.  But the rate at which those things gained speed was terrifying.  They would have to be quick and hope to the spirits that there was a place to hide once there.

“Okay.  We make a run for it in three,” she whispered.  “One… Two…”  Her anxious, intense gaze flicked to his momentarily as she gulped a deep breath.  “Three.”

They bolted out from hiding and sprinted toward the other side of the cavern, their footsteps resonating daringly through the cathedral.  All around them, the monsters turned and began charging after them, slowly at first and then faster and faster.  Suddenly more and more of the ghastly things seemed to materialize out of thin air.  They swerved as three of the demons appeared in their path, lunging at them with those gangling arms, and immediately ducked to evade the swiping claws of another.  Every time they dodged one, another cut them off. 

“They just keep coming!” Katara shouted over the uproar of tormented howls.  “We’re never gonna make it!”

“Just keep running!” Ozai shouted back.

They weaved and ducked their way through the hordes of abominations.  Katara chanced a quick glimpse up ahead.  The passage was almost within reach!  There was sure to be someplace to hide in there.

A sharp pain stabbed through her ankle as she felt her foot catch in a pothole.  Katara shrieked in pain and fell to the ground.  She dug at the stony floor, pebbles biting into her hands, as she tried to scramble to her feet.  But her ankle couldn’t bear the pain and she collapsed again.

“Ozai!” she cried out, hoping he could hear her above the tumult.

He spun around, barely evading the clutches of another monster, and charged back for her.  Ozai yanked her to her feet so fast she almost lost her breath.  He grabbed her hand and sprinted toward the passage, dragging her behind him as she struggled to keep the weight off her bad foot.

“We’re almost there!” he barked over his shoulder.  “Come on!”

Katara could only nod through rasping breaths.  It took every ounce of her concentration to maintain her balance under the momentum.

In a half dozen more strides they charged through the mouth of the passage just before two more creatures nearly cut them off.  Their footsteps hammered in their ears against the narrow walls.  The corridor was tighter than it had looked.  Behind them, she could hear hordes of the monsters piling in after them – a rising, undulating chorus of horror, earsplitting in the confined space.

The further they ran, the narrower the walls seemed to get.  And no sign of a break in the sides or a split in the passage.  The walls were solid and closing in.  They were probably approaching a dead end.  This was it.  The way her life would end.

 “Wait, stop!”  Ozai skidded to a sudden halt as Katara collided with his back.  “Quick, in here!”

He stooped down and slid through a small grotto in the bottom of the wall, pulling her in after him.  The moment he dragged her through, he snatched her to him and froze.  Katara almost didn’t dare to breathe for fear of betraying their hideout.  She clutched onto Ozai’s cloak to still her trembling.  If those things could only sense them through sound or movement, maybe they’d be safe here until they gave up and went back to… wherever it was they came from.

Heavy thudding footsteps thundered past and then quickly lost momentum as the horde slowed in confusion.  The desperate, ravenous terror gave way to mournful moaning again as the monsters shuffled about in bewildered circles within feet of their tiny shelter.  Katara’s heart pounded in her ears.  Every breath was a blaring siren in their cubby hole.  She gulped down breaths to keep quiet and prayed they wouldn’t be found.

~                      ~                      ~

Hours passed and the moans became less frequent, more distant.  Ozai and Katara dared short, barely-audible sentences to pass the time.  Occasionally they were silenced by a hair-raising wail as a straggler hobbled past their hideout, the heavy stillness of the cavern pierced by the chilling echo.  Part of Ozai wanted to make a run for it now that it was calmer, but he knew better.  They could possibly outrun one of those things, but he knew where there was one there were others unseen.

Water dripped from the shallow mouth of their hideout.  Some of the droplets were beginning to freeze into what would soon grow into icicles.  Winter had finally come.

“Tell me something about you.”

The girl’s voice intruded on his silence.  It suddenly occurred to him that it had been hours since they had heard the last moan.  Ozai blinked and glanced up.  “What?”

“I’ve been with you for three months now.  I know next to nothing about you.  Nothing real anyway, except what you let slip.”

“That’s exactly how I want it,” he said with finality, hoping to dismiss her.

“Well, if we’re gonna be stuck in here indefinitely, I’d at least like to talk of something interesting.”  Her gaze was unflinching with a hint of a smile.  She wasn’t backing down.  “Tell me something about your past.”

The edge of his mouth turned up, his eyes cut into her with a cold smirk.  She wanted a story?  He’d give her a story.  He’d make her sorry that she asked.

“When I was twelve, I nearly died of physical injuries my father inflicted on me.”  He saw the sudden pain in her brow and smiled inwardly.  _Good_. 

“He often beat me,” he went on, “but this time was worse.  I’d found a vial of red dust, an elite drug in the Fire Nation, that he’d carelessly left on his nightstand.  I didn’t know what it was then, but I knew it was something I wasn’t meant to see.  I was scared for him so I took it to throw it away but he found me before I could.”  He paused and looked away, remembering.  “He said it was to teach me a lesson but I knew it was just an excuse.  He had wanted to do it anyway.”  His voice was rusty with the truth.  Bitterness.  Feeling.  He scoffed as though to laugh it off.  “He once said he wanted to cut me off like a gangrened limb.  If the servants hadn’t found me when they did, he might have gotten his wish.”

There was a pause before the girl responded. 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean that,” she said softly, as though to console him.

“No?” he muttered with a smirk.  “A year later, when I’d had enough of this hell on earth, my father walked in on me trying to slit my wrists.  You know what he said to me?  ‘You’re cutting the wrong way.’  And then he walked out.  I don’t know why I never had the strength to follow through with it.”

Confident that he had shoved the dagger deep enough, he sighed bleakly and stared off.  There was an emptiness inside him that he’d imagined would have been filled with satisfaction at the girl’s grief-stricken expression.  The silence that followed was so heavy it rang in his ears.  After a moment, he looked back at her.  There was a sheen of moisture in her eyes.  A jolt of shock coursed through him, and then guilt.  He quickly stifled it and replaced the feeling with annoyance.

“Are you crying?  For me?”

“No…” came the half-hearted denial.  “Maybe.  Is that a crime?”

“It’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.  “I don’t need your pity.  Your tears are wasted on me.”

“Why?  You’re still a human being, aren’t you?”  Her tone was defensive, like he had offended her.  Why was she so determined to defend him?  “Your past doesn’t have to define you.  You can change.”

“And that’s just it,” he bit back.  “I have no intention nor desire to do so.”

“Ozai…”  His stomach tightened at her use of his name again.  She leaned toward him slightly with a sad smile.  “I don’t know what your plans are with me, but I can guess what’s preying on you.  Maybe you should just try to accept the hand you’ve been dealt and move on.  You’re not the Fire Lord anymore.  You’re not a firebender anymore.  But maybe without those things, you can form a new identity.”  She placed a quiet hand on his arm.  “One not controlled and polluted by your past.  Your father’s gone now.  You have nothing to prove.  You don’t have to go through with this.  Maybe it’s time to let go of your ghosts and start a new life.”

He felt something inside him crack.  He writhed inside to escape the feeling, but it was there nonetheless and growing with the light touch of her hand on his arm.  She was so sincere, so caring and he could not understand why, not for him.

“We could start a new life together.  Once we’re out of here.  I can help you.  We can help each other.”

“And why would you want to do that?  Aren’t you forgetting your two impotent boyfriends?” he mocked with biting sarcasm.  He almost regretted it as the words left his mouth.

Katara winced and closed her eyes, then looked at him again with a gaze that sliced him through.

“Because I’ve decided I don’t want to go back.  I want to stay with you.”

He blinked, unable to conceal the surprise on his face.  Well, this was unexpected. 

The whites of her eyes looked blue in the light of the crystals as she stared up at him, awaiting his response.  But words eluded him.  What had become of his defenses?  Where was his power and anger?  His resolve?

A small voice deep inside urged him to rejoice in his victory.  His plan had worked.  She had turned from her friends and was all his now.  It had fallen in place so perfectly.  But as he held her vulnerable, trusting gaze in his own, he felt anything but victorious. 

“Do what you want in the end.”  He tried to sound hard.  “But don’t think this changes anything.  My plans are set.”

She withdrew her hand, the hurt evident on her face.  “Maybe in time you’ll change your mind.”  Katara’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, as though it was all she could muster.

His lips pressed together in a tight frown as he looked away.  Her hope in him was misplaced.  The girl honestly believed he was salvageable.  It would not be long before she realized her error.

That is if they ever made it out of this place alive.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Why must he always do everything himself?  Mortals could be so pitiful and weak and yet so maddeningly troublesome.  If Jaaku had not propelled the Avatar back into his body the moment he had, those feeble-minded cretins would have found Ozai and that silly, tiresome girl.  Any closer and they would have destroyed his chaotically beautiful plans.  At least now the boy was in a dark place and would slow them down, but it wasn’t how things were supposed to play out.  Not at all.

And now he would have to find a way to intervene to get Ozai out of his mess.  If he didn’t do it soon, there was no telling what affect that girl might have on him.  She was almost changing him.  Almost.  He needed to act and he needed to act now.  If that man was not so crucial, he would just as well leave him in there to rot.  But luckily for him, Jaaku needed him.   It was time to get the show on the road.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Toph stared down at the conjurer, her mouth going slack.  What did Genshi just say?  Surely she misheard.  It was unthinkable that Katara and Ozai…  Yet still, she felt the color drain from her face, the sudden need to sit down.  She sank to her knees and hugged her arms over her stomach.

For a moment, her mouth hung open, unable to form the words that were clouded in her mind.  She huffed and shook her head in disbelief.  “Explain this to me again,” she said with a solemn stare.

“I swear, I wish I could tell you something different.  But I can’t help what I saw.  Katara was definitely touching Ozai in a less-than-hostile way.  It certainly didn’t say captive.  And Ozai seemed strangely comfortable with it.”

“Are you telling me Katara’s developed, like… _feelings_ for Ozai?”

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions…”  Her tone was unconvinced.  Toph could feel her eyes shifting away and then back again.  “But yes,” Genshi conceded, “that’s the way it appeared to me.”

Her mind raced in a hundred directions at once.  What were they going to do?  What _could_ they do?  Toph had never felt so helpless.  Katara was slipping farther away with every moment that passed.  But telling the others, especially Prince Hotpants and the Daddy-O, might result in panic and rash decisions and then where would they be?  The group could fall apart.

“Do you think you could do one of your freaky vision things on me?” Toph asked.

Genshi thought for a moment.  “I don’t know.  I’m not sure it would work since you’re… well, you know…”

“Blind, yeah, I know,” Toph cut her off.  “But if it works – if I think about Katara and you’re able to see a vision of her – do you think you could transfer the vision to me?  Since we’d be, like, connected or whatever?”

“Maybe.  I guess it’s possible.  The vision is really more of a spiritual sight, not so much physical.  It’s like a dream – a picture in your mind without the actual use of your eyes.”

“So you’re saying it could work?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”


	23. Chapter 23

Katara wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there in the stagnant silence.  Alone save for the lull of Ozai’s breathing still heavy with sleep, muted in the stale air of the cavern.  Faint blue light strained through the icicles that now descended like jagged teeth from the mouth of their prison.  Is this where she would live out the remainder of her days?

Ozai stirred behind her and drew in a deep breath of one emerging from sleep.  A long silence ensued before he finally spoke.

“You seem lost in your thoughts.  Care to divulge?”

Her knees were drawn up under her chin, arms hugged around her legs.  She didn’t turn around.

“I was thinking about the first time I used bloodbending on someone after I swore I’d never do it again,” she said quietly.  “I thought he was the man who’d killed my mother, but I later found out he was innocent.  I wonder though, if I’d know that then, would it have made a difference?  I was so angry and he was the face of my enemy, of everything I hated.  I wanted someone to project my bitterness upon, to pay for her death.  I hate to say it, but had I known, I might have done it anyway.  To prove something.  To make a statement.”

Katara turned toward Ozai then.  “I think about myself in that moment and it scares me.  What I could have become.  The power of bloodbending is exhilarating.  It could have easily consumed me.  But I chose a different path.  I rose above it and found forgiveness I never imagined I could offer that man.”

“And you’re telling me this in hopes I’ll have a change of heart.”  Ozai chuckled in disdain.  “You mistake my bitterness for weakness.  Anger is what has made me stronger.  Forgiveness is for the weak, the faint of heart.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.  It takes all of one’s strength and more to forgive.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  But after, I felt so free.  Like I’d been carrying around a lead balloon that was suddenly cut loose.”

He looked away, conflicted; discord evident in his furrowed brow.  “Why bother me with this asinine story?”

“To show you you’re not the only one whose bitterness feeds your own demons, Ozai.  It’s all-consuming, an acid that eats through and destroys everything in its path.  Believe me, I know.”  She scooted closer to him and he glanced up in response.  Their eyes met and she thought she saw a hint of uncertainty there.  “But it is possible to overcome.”

 Ozai’s features softened into that trademark smirk.  “You’re… intriguing, I’ll give you that.”  His voice was smooth as warm satin and just as intoxicating.  His gaze flicked to her lips and then returned to hers, heavy with something that made her heart skip a beat.  The air seemed to rush out of her body, leaving her suddenly breathless.  She had not realized how close they were sitting.  Katara blinked rapidly and opened her mouth to speak, but forgot the words.  And then without warning, she realized she was leaning in toward him.  A small, distant voice in her mind screamed its protest but she was too far away and powerless to stop it.  The distance between them suddenly grew smaller.  He was leaning in too.

Katara’s heart drummed erratically against her ribcage.  She could feel his breath, warm and humid, on her face as her nose brushed against his.  Their lips had almost met when a strange sound startled them from their daze.

Katara turned toward the jaws of the entrance.  An eerie figure stood there; undoubtedly a spirit for it was not of this world.  Half wolf and half stag, with several knobby, tree-like antlers.  Its six red eyes gaped at them in an unblinking smile that sent a chill down her spine.

“Stay back!”  She tried to sound forceful without raising her voice.

The spirit was undaunted and took a step closer.

“I said STAY BACK!”

“Have no fear.  I’m here to help you.”

Stunned by the being’s unmoved voice, Katara faltered.  “Why should we trust you?”

“It wouldn’t seem you have a choice now, would it?” the thing drawled.  “Unless of course you’d like to starve to death in this lovely little abode.”

The truth silenced her.  She stole a nervous glance at Ozai.  His jaw was hardened in a tight scowl at the spirit but he said nothing.

“I’ll help you get out of here, on one condition.”  His eyes were fixed firmly on Ozai.  “When you’re back on the surface, you go straight to the end and fulfill your destiny.”

Ozai’s eyes widened at the proclamation.  “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I’m on your side.  That’s all you need to know.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Pain ravaged Toph’s temples as she wrenched herself from the conjurer’s hold.  She fell back on the ground, gasping, as her stomach reeled from what she had just seen.

“Bloody spirits,” Toph croaked out.  Katara and Ozai.  They had been a breath away from a kiss.  Something had stopped them, but if it hadn’t… 

She blinked and sat up slowly.  “This is so much worse than I even imagined.”

Genshi was quiet for a moment.  “We have to tell them.”

Toph hesitated in thought.  There was no way she could keep this from the others.  Not when it was this bad. 

“I know,” she conceded.  “But we can’t tell everyone at once.  The last thing we need is hysteria racking everyone’s judgment.”  She massaged her temples and tried to think.  Her mind was so jumbled.

“Let me take care of this,” Toph said finally.  “In the morning, I’ll pull Zuko aside and relay things as delicately as possible.”

Genshi raised her eyebrows.  “Are you sure you want to tell Zuko, of all people?”

“No,” she admitted.  “But you’ve seen how Sokka’s been acting lately.  I know Suki would turn right around and spill the beans to everyone.  You couldn’t pay me enough to be the one to tell Katara’s dad.    And do I even need to mention Aang?”  Toph sighed.  “There’s no perfect scenario, but given the options…”

Genshi bit her lip and nodded.  “Try to get some sleep then.”

“I think sleep’s out of the question for me tonight.  I’ll just try to work on keeping my last meal down.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko wrestled with Appa’s saddle in the pale morning light.  He hated when it was his turn to saddle Appa.  He never could get it right.  The group was preparing to set out again as Toph approached him, Genshi at her side. 

“Hey, Sparky,” she called out.  “Can I talk to you?”

Zuko gritted his teeth at her use of his nickname.  He was not in the mood.

“Not now, Toph.”  He didn’t bother looking at her.  “Kinda busy.”  He nodded toward the saddle as it slid off the bison again.  He cursed it and tried again.  Beside him, a furious Aang started writhing.  “Hey, can I get a little help over here?” he called over his shoulder.  “Aang’s starting to freak out again.”

“Zuko,” she interrupted.  “It’s important.”

He sighed heavily and threw the saddle to the ground, following her to the other side of the den.  “Okay, what?”

“Listen, I don’t think you should be so quick to dismiss Genshi.”

Zuko looked from Genshi back to Toph.  “You’re joking,” he huffed. “You’re defending her?  After everything?”

The conjurer deflated like a balloon before him.  His lips pressed into a frown.  He didn’t care.

“Genshi conjured a vision with me last night.”

Zuko cocked an eyebrow and shrugged.  “And?”

The blind girl closed her eyes and blew out a deep breath.  “Your dad and Katara.  I think there’s something going on between them.  I saw them… Umm.  Well, almost… kissing.”

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks.  His stomach turned to ice, cold and heavy, nauseated.  The world around him began to spin as Zuko gaped down at Toph. 

He felt the blood drain from his face and took a step back from the girl.  Garbled syllables stumbled from his mouth before he found the ability to speak again.  “What…  What are you saying, Toph?”

“What do you think I’m saying?  You have competition.  Somewhere along the road, Katara’s developed a little crush on her captor.”

Zuko grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pacing away and then back again.  He had known his father was capable of horrible, unspeakable things.  But this?  “No.  No, this cannot be true.  You said yourself, ‘ _almost_ ’ kissed.  How can be sure it wasn’t something else you saw?  You’re _blind_.”

“I saw them, Zuko,” she insisted.  “The same way I see you and everything else around me.  There was no mistaking it.”

Zuko buried his face in his hands and muttered a string of vulgar, incomprehensible curses before looking up again.  He glanced over his shoulder; the others were still preoccupied with Aang.

“No one else is to hear of this.  At least not yet.  Do you understand?”

“Way ahead of you, Sparky.  Why do you think I pulled you aside?”

He nodded.  “Alright, Genshi, you can stay.  But were you able to see their _real_ location this time?  Why did you lead us to the wrong place before?”

“I don’t think it is the wrong place, my lord.  I feel them here.  There was a cave or something in the vision.  Blue glowing crystals.  It was definitely underground.”

“You think they may be below us?”

“It’s possible.”

He thought for a moment.  “Then you should be able to see them through the earth, right, Toph?  All you’d have to do is search them out and then earthbend us down there.”

“That’s the thing,” Toph said.  “I can’t see them.  They must be _really_ underground because they’re not on my radar at all.”

“What do you suggest we do then?”

“I think we should wait,” Genshi spoke up.  “They have to resurface sometime.”

Zuko could feel the fury building inside him.  “You want to _wait_?!”  How dare she suggest such an idiotic course of action when she had caused enough trouble already?  “We can’t just sit around and let them slip by when they’re this close!”

“I know it’s torture.  But I don’t think they intend to stay where they are for long, from what I could tell.  It was obvious they were hiding from something.  If we wait them out, keep the visions on top of them, maybe we can head them off somewhere.”

His fingernails bit into the palms of his balled fists.  “You’d better be right, or so help me, Genshi, you’ll wish you’d left us when you had the chance.”  Zuko took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  He needed to calm his nerves.  “We can’t afford to lose them again.  We may have already lost her.   Time and speed are our only hope now.”

 _And Aang_ , he thought.  If only they had Aang on their side.  If there was any hope for Katara, it was him.  Without him… he feared it may already be too late.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“Are you sure we can trust that… thing?” Katara whispered as they trailed behind the nameless spirit.

“Like he said, we don’t really have a choice,” Ozai whispered back.  “And he did save our lives back there.”

The girl said nothing more as they came to the end of the passage that had looked like a dead end.  Instead, they squeezed through an opening, hidden by the shadows, and emerged into a wider channel, snaking sharply to the left at an incline.

They wound through the cavern’s corridors for hours it seemed.  Conversation was kept to a minimum.  The spirit, or whatever it was, did not speak to them again.  Ozai shared Katara’s misgivings of their uncanny rescuer, but it did get them out of their bind for the moment.  He could fight off the creature if it ever came to that, but at least they had left those sickening corpse-like things behind.

Up ahead, faint white light spilled onto the cavern floor.  Ozai felt his spirits perk up.  They were nearly free.

Moments later, they were climbing out of a small cave into broad daylight.  The brightness of it stung his eyes.  He jerked his head down and shielded his eyes, squinting into the landscape while the pain subsided.  When his vision had adjusted enough, he looked up at their guide.

“The Bashou Mountains,” the spirit stated, nodding at their forested incline.  “I imagine we’re a quarter of the way up where we stand.  I’m afraid, however, that you won’t find your way up from here without a struggle.  These mountains are known for their treachery.”

“Spare me,” Ozai interrupted.  “I’m not ignorant of the stories.  We’ll make it.”

The spirit just stared at him with that eerie smile.  “Good luck then.  I am confident you will not let me down.”

Ozai was not sure if that was meant to encourage or threaten.  He didn’t care.  He was not doing what he was doing for that creature.  Whatever was in it for that spirit, he’d deal with it when the time came.

As quickly as it had appeared to them, the spirit vanished.  Ozai looked at Katara.

“I guess we should get moving then.”

He saw her blush and she glanced toward the ground when their eyes met.  In the strangeness of the spirit encounter he had almost forgotten about their near-kiss.  Almost.

The scene came surging back to him and his stomach knotted.  What had he been thinking?  Idiot!  Was a pretty face and soft words all it took now to reduce him to a spineless, withering fool?  He had killed men for less weakness.  He would not let that girl worm her way into his heart, if he had one, again.  They were so close now.  They would reach Frostbite Cove much sooner than if they had gone around the mountains.  Maybe it was meant to work out this way.  But he had to remain focused.

He steeled his jaw and straightened his back.  “Come on,” he gestured.  The girl fell quietly into step behind him as they began their ascent into the treacherous wilderness.


	24. Chapter 24

Katara’s foot slipped on a patch of old rotten leaves.  She lost her balance on the mountain’s steep incline and fell down hard to the cold, unyielding ground.  Groaning, she tried to stand when Ozai reached back and grasped her hand to help her up.  Their eyes met for an unsettled moment and then silently he started forward again.

He had not spoken a word to her since they began their grueling ascent.  That was hours ago.  She wished she could know what was going through his mind.  Was he angry about the moment they shared back in the cave?  Perhaps to him it had been nothing more than a mistake in the face of death, one that shamed him now.  But had it been more than that to her? 

The trees were naked and shivering in the cold.  Winter had finally taken all it had come for.  Her heart felt parched, worn out, like the forest surrounding them; it seemed so fitting now to dress the world in brown and grey.  Katara struggled to put a name to her feelings for him.  It wasn’t love, not really.  But she could not ignore the way her heart electrified every time their eyes met.  And she couldn’t help but wonder if she could have loved him, could have saved him from himself in a different time, a different life.

The twisted, knobby fingers of the tree branches bit into the blue of the cloudless sky, snatching handfuls of the sun and scattering it.  But despite the sun’s pale golden rays, the air was deceivingly cold and growing colder with every step up the mountain.  As they climbed higher, the forest grew thicker and darker.  The barren maples and oaks began mingling with evergreen.  A wintry breeze nipped her face, bringing with it the sweet tang of pine needles.

“The sun will be gone soon,” Ozai finally said, but he didn’t turn around.  She wondered if he was speaking more to himself than to her.  “We should find shelter, start a fire.”

Katara remained silent.  For no particular reason, the faces of her friends flickered in her mind.  It felt like a lifetime ago that they had been together.  She wondered if she would even know them anymore.  Or maybe it was they who wouldn’t know her.  She wasn’t sure she did anymore.

What would they say if they knew that just hours ago she had almost kissed their former worst nightmare?  That would make for some interesting dinner conversation.  She could just see the expression on Sokka’s face, hear the disgust in his voice.  _Please tell me this is some sick joke.  Just a sick, horrible joke.  Do you realize he’s as old as dad?_ Suki would just stare at her in shock.  Toph would probably threaten to beat some sense into her.  Aang… well, she wasn’t sure about Aang anymore.

And Zuko.  What would he say?  After he finished puking his guts out, that is.  She wanted to feel regret.  She wanted to feel as though she had betrayed him.  But it had been three months and not so much as a sign of him.  If he was looking for her, he wasn’t trying very hard.  Why should she care what he would think now?

She decided she didn’t.  And as Ozai slowed to a halt before a giant hollowed out tree stump, she straightened and breathed deeply of the mountain air.  No matter how things were with Ozai now, it would pass.  She had made her choice.  She was staying.

“We need firewood,” he said, turning to her.  “You work on that and I’ll set up camp.”  He said no more than he needed to before getting to work pulling their gear from their satchels.  Taking her cue, she wandered off in search of kindling.

Dusk was yawning across the ochre sky.  The forest seemed strangely quiet.  There was no sign of animals, no rustling in the dry undergrowth.  The winter birds were silent, seemingly absent.  Even the snap of twigs under her feet sounded wrong, dulled.  As the light began to fade and new shadows emerged around her, Katara felt a sudden chill and the hair lift on the back of her neck.  A wave of unease crashed over her that she could not explain.  She felt dangerously exposed, vulnerable, like she was being watched.

From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone standing next to a nearby tree.  She turned quickly.  Nothing was there.  She stared at the spot for a moment and tried to shake the feeling.  She was being silly.  Her imagination always had a tendency to run amuck if she was not careful.  Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a long breath.  She gathered up an armful of dried out logs and trudged back to their campsite. 

Ozai was laying out their padded thermal sleeping bags inside the enormous shell of the ancient tree trunk.  Katara dropped the logs into a pile and, before long, had a cozy, crackling fire blazing.  The warmth of the flames beneath her cold hands calmed her nerves.  A good night’s sleep and she would feel better in the morning.

Grabbing her satchel, she moved behind a nearby tree and pulled out her old clothes.  She made sure she was sufficiently hidden before she began to change.  The frosty air stung at her naked skin.  She shivered at the renewed warmth she felt as she pulled on her familiar clothing.  Grimacing at the risqué satin garment she had been wearing, Katara stuffed it down to the bottom of her bag with force.  _Good riddance_.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Her dreams were restless that night.  She dreamed of faceless people, dark shapes on the edge of her vision, leaning over her, tearing her in every direction at once.  There was blood-stained snow.  A baby.  It was her baby.  She cried out and tried to run to the wailing infant but her feet slogged in the snow like thick mud.  Before she could reach it, the baby stopped crying and looked straight at her.  Its face was empty and devoid of emotion.  As it began sinking into the snow it donned a devilish grin, shaking its head back and forth violently.  And then it was swallowed beneath the surface.  The snow melted into a raging sea and Katara was thrashed amidst the waves.  She saw Aang there, standing over her.  She reached out frantically for him to save her, but he just stood there.  The scowl on his face twisted into an evil smile as he watched her succumb to the angry sea.

Katara gasped awake, shivering and drenched with cold sweat.  The tired remains of the fire smoldered in a weak glow, seemingly smothered by the engulfing blackness around them.  She had never seen the night so dark.  Beside her, Ozai was snoring quietly, oblivious to her disturbance.  She scooched her sleeping bag closer to him and prayed feverishly for morning to come.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko’s head was pounding with the intensity of a small earthquake as Genshi wrenched her hands from his temples.  Her face was white, eyes wide in fear.

“No,” she whispered.  “No, we can’t.”  Her tone was growing frantic.

“We can’t what, Genshi?” Zuko questioned, massaging his temples.  “What are you talking about?”

“They’ve gone into the mountains.  The Bashou Mountains.”

“Okay…”  Zuko’s eyes shifted in doubt to the others.  “So let’s go after them.”

“No!” she screamed.

They all flinched simultaneously at her outburst, exchanging confused glances.

“And why not?” Zuko finally asked.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?  The legends?”  Genshi snorted and shook her head.  “The only way you’ll take me there is if you drag my lifeless body.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sokka spat.  Suki’s elbow made contact with his ribs and he let out a muffled _oomph_.

“You don’t understand!  There is an evil in the forests of those mountains that does not rest.  We _cannot_ go in there.”

 “Please!”  Sokka scoffed.  “We all know this one’s crazy as a loon.  _And_ she’s superstitious.  She’d believe anything.  No way am I letting her dictate this decision.”

The group cast wary glances at each other.  Sokka glared at the conjurer with black fury.  “We’re going after them and you’re coming with us, if we have to tie you down and drag you like Aang.”

Genshi’s mouth fell open.  “I don’t believe this…  You’re _kidnapping_ me?  I’ve been helping you of my own free will!”

“Not anymore, you’re not.”  All eyes turned to Zuko.  He straightened and squared his jaw.  “I am the Fire Lord of the Fire Nation, and as such you are under obligation to obey my orders.”  He paused to let his threat sink in.  “We are going after them and you _will_ show us the way.  Now move out!”

She blinked, her eyes widening in dread.  “But, my lord…”

“I _said_ , move out,” he growled.  His forceful gaze bore into her, unyielding.

Genshi’s eyes fell to her feet as her shoulders sagged in reluctant submission.  “Yes, my lord,” she whispered, defeated.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara awoke, sore and groggy from a restless sleep, to find Ozai nursing a newly wrought fire.  Dawn had just barely touched the darkness.  He looked tired.  His face was tight, his eyes rimmed with red.

“You’re up early,” she yawned, sitting up.

He raked a stick along the glowing logs.  “Couldn’t sleep.”

Katara’s eyebrows lifted.  “That makes two of us.”

He cast her a short, sidelong glance and turned back to the fire.

“Did unusually disturbing dreams keep you up too?” she asked, half joking.

Ozai blinked and looked at her then.  Her smile faded.  She could tell by his expression that she’d struck a nerve.

“Wait… really?”  Her stomach quivered.  That was odd.  Something just did not seem right.  “This is gonna sound kinda crazy,” she began cautiously, “but… I think there’s something wrong with these mountains.  Last night I kept feeling like we were being watched.”

“You’re right, that does sound crazy,” he huffed, belittling her.

“No, really.  While I was gathering firewood, I got this terrible feeling out of nowhere.  I thought I saw someone watching me.  But when I looked, they were gone.”

“That’s because there was nothing there to begin with.”

She sighed.  “Okay… then how do explain us both having awful dreams?  That’s a pretty strange coincidence.”

“Stranger things have happened.”  He gestured with his hand as though to wave off the idea.  “Our minds are just trying to sort through that ordeal with those… things… in the cavern.  It’ll pass.”

Katara looked away in thought.  Maybe he was right.  Why was she suddenly so superstitious?  That wasn’t like her.  She felt embarrassed for sounding so silly when the words of their strange spirit rescuer echoed in her mind.

_“These mountains are known for their treachery.”_

She felt a pang of unease and narrowed her eyes at Ozai.  “What do you know of these mountains?  You told that spirit that you had heard the stories.  What stories?”

Ozai frowned and glanced away.  “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.  “They’re just stories.”

“I want to know.  Tell me.”

He rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath.  “The stories say that, long ago, these mountains were a burial ground of sorts where people would abandon their elderly or infirm citizens, and sometimes unwanted babies, when they could no longer care for them.  Those left here would undoubtedly die a slow, agonizing death.”

Katara’s stomach lurched.  “That is sickening!” she croaked out.  “How could anyone–”

“Understandably, some chose instead to take their own lives,” Ozai cut her off, “but not before placing a curse on the trees as a last jab at their traitorous loved ones.  The curse was meant to inflict misery on any who entered the mountains.”

Katara could not speak.  Her mouth hung open, brows knit it a pained grimace, waiting in horror for him to continue. 

“The barbaric practice of abandonment was eventually stopped, but by then these mountains were so known for death that often people who had planned their own suicide thought of it as the perfect place to die.  Legend says that more than a thousand people have since come here to do just that.  The forests are supposedly possessed by the tormented souls who took their lives here and the curses placed on the trees by those left to die without a choice.  And many who have since ventured into the mountains for other reasons, whether curiosity or necessity, were never seen again.  The forest is said to prey on the minds of unwary travelers, turning them around and making them lose their way.  Too much time amidst the trees causes delusions, hallucinations, confusion… you get the idea.”

The dismay must have been painted on her face because he rolled his eyes at her again.  “Like I said,” he reiterated, sounding annoyed, “they’re just stories.  Fabricated nonsense.  It’s obvious to anyone with half a brain that the perilous terrain of the mountains is the culprit, not some ludicrous, imaginary tree phantoms.”

She bit her lip and looked away.  What he said made sense of course.  She was the logical type, the one who normally poked fun at such superstition.  So then why couldn’t she shake the feeling that something was not right?

“Made-up stories or not, I don’t like this place.  There’s something off about it.  You have to admit it’s strange that I got that creepy feeling before you even told me.  And the dreams–”

“Forget about the dreams.  They’re just dreams,” he retorted.  “And I don’t like this any better than you do, but here we are.  The more time you waste arguing with me, the longer we’ll be here.  As long as we’re careful and navigate properly, we’ll be fine.”

Katara sighed.  “I hope you’re right,” she mumbled.

Moments passed in silence.  Stripes of pink and orange were beginning to streak the sky through the tangle of branches above.  Finally Ozai stood and kicked out the fire, packing up his belongings and stuffing them in his satchel.  Katara rolled up her sleeping bag tightly and shoved it in her bag. 

“If we’re lucky,” he said, turning to her, “we’ll scale the mountain and down the other side in three days, five tops.  As long as we keep moving and don’t stop except to eat and rest.  It won’t be easy but we’ll survive and be out before long.”

Katara nodded and fell into step behind him.  Her breath hitched in her throat as the hair prickled on her scalp.  There was that feeling again.  Like eyes following her from somewhere behind.  She looked over her shoulder and scanned their surroundings.  There was nothing but a desolate sea of trees, practically devoid of life.  Certainly nothing following them as far as she could see.  She hesitated a moment and then turned back around, climbing higher into the unwelcoming mountains.


	25. Chapter 25

The path was dark as obsidian, bitter as the grip of winter uncoiled.  The evening dew on the trees had died to frost overnight.  As Ozai and Katara trekked over the frozen ground, a sudden frigid wind stripped the trees of their white shroud, blowing it through the air like powder.  The naked branches appeared eternally heavy, weighed down with the sorrow of a thousand lost souls, as they leaned toward each other, black and ominous in the muted light of dawn.  A vast silence reigned over the mountains so desolate, so lifeless and lone and cold that the spirit of it filled the corners of Katara’s soul with dread. 

Ozai stopped briefly to examine his map, glancing up to in an attempt to gain his bearings and then down again.  Katara glanced back over her shoulder.  It was the morning after their second night in the mountains.  She had not seen anything strange since the first evening gathering firewood.  Still, the foreboding clung to her like a wet blanket.  She was certain nothing good could come of a place racked with so much darkness.

A gnarly old twisted tree caught her eye, standing guard at the foot of a still pool of water.  Dark trees frowned on either side of the frozen pond.  Katara felt herself shrink back at the sight.  But her mouth parched and she remembered suddenly how thirsty she was.  The forest was dry and dead; there was very little to draw water from and their supply was running low.  It would only take a moment to walk there, melt the water, and bend it into her water skin.  She could not risk passing it by.  It could be their only source for days.

Katara gulped a breath and glanced at Ozai.  He was still studying his map.

“I’m going to get some more water in that pond over there.”  She pointed in the direction.  Ozai did not respond or glance up.  He was mumbling something that sounded like curses under his breath as he labored over the map.  Katara tried to press down the feeling of dread at Ozai’s behavior.  They weren’t lost.  He was just meticulous.  Everything would be fine.  He had said it himself.

With a deep breath, she turned toward the pond and started dragging her feet in its direction.   Her muscles were rigid, her every nerve ready to fire as she crept closer.  She shot a quick glance over her shoulder to reassure herself of Ozai’s presence. 

Katara reached the water’s edge and felt the shadows of the forbidding trees like a tangible weight upon her.  She knelt slowly down to the bank and untied her water skin.  With her hand splayed out, the pond transformed gently from its frozen state into softly rippling water.  In any other moment, it might have been beautiful.  As she reached down to bend water into the skin, she noticed her hand was shaking.  She clenched her jaw and tried to steady it.

Beneath the quiet ripples, something dark caught her eye.  She stilled the waters and squinted to look more closely.  A cluster of dark wispy tendrils, like long black grass, sprouted from the pond’s muddy floor, swaying gently in the waning current.  Katara had never seen such a strange aquatic plant.  It seemed even stranger to see one in such hostile temperatures.

Out of curiosity, she grabbed hold of the plant’s vines and pulled.  It seemed to be attached to something larger.  As she exhumed the plant, something else emerged with it.  Katara examined the shape for a moment.  Most of it was still buried in the muddy floor, but what she could see looked pale and wrinkled.  As she cleared away some of the mud, her heart stopped.  What looked like two eye sockets stared back at her inside what had once been a human face.  The plant she held in her hand was black hair.

Katara threw herself back and scrambled up the bank, struggling to breathe.  Darkness edged in around her as the world began to spin.  Barely on her feet, she lunged over and vomited.

As quickly as she could, she stumbled back to where Ozai stood waiting for her.

“Where have you been?  You can’t just–”  He stopped short at the look on her face, her labored breathing.  “What’s wrong?”

Her whole body was shaking and at first she could not form the words.

“Dead…” she managed through ragged breaths.  “A dead body.  In the pond over there.  I… I touched it.  Oh, gods…”  She thought she was going to vomit again and tried to force it down.

Ozai’s eyes shifted in the direction she pointed and then back to her.

“Probably some poor fool who got lost and ended up there,” he said, as though to comfort her.  “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“You wouldn’t worry about it?!”  She could hardly believe him.  “There is a _dead_ body.  Right there.”  Her despair was growing with every word.  “I knew this place was cursed…”

“Ugh, I never should have told you,” he growled.  “Forget about all that.  It’s a myth.  A legend.  It’s not _real_.  And what’s one dead body?  People die, all the time, everywhere, and this is hostile territory.  It’s to be expected if you’re not prepared.  Dead bodies are hardly a threat to us.  What _is_ a threat is the cold weather and how quickly our supplies are going to run out if we don’t concentrate on the task at hand.”

“How can you be so sure?”  She envied his confidence.  She wanted to believe him but her instincts held her back.  “What if you’re wrong?”

Ozai squared his jaw and looked down at her sternly.  “I’m not.”

He gazed at her a moment longer and then turned and started walking.  “It’s this way,” he said over his shoulder, pointing.

Katara released a ragged breath and looked down at her hands.  They were still wet.  And they were trembling.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“Watch out, Suki!” Sokka cried, cutting through the mountain’s thick silence like a knife.  Suki gasped as he yanked her back by the arm.  The others froze and turned to him.  He cupped his hand to his mouth and narrowed his eyes in an exaggerated whisper.  “That’s a scary tree.  It might get you.”

The group grumbled in unison and continued on.  Zuko gritted his teeth and tried to block out his friend’s obnoxious banter.  He had been mocking Genshi off and on for hours now and he was ready to blow a fuse.

“Ooh, I think there’s a ghost behind that boulder.  I’m afraid.”  He cupped his hands to his face, pretending to cower.

 “Cut it out, Sokka,” Zuko snarled.  “Leave her alone.”

“What?  That is a legitimately evil-looking boulder.”

“Enough!”  Zuko spun around and glared at Sokka.  The warrior’s contrived innocence faded with a resigned sigh.

“Fine,” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Their journey was quiet for a while then, save for their footsteps and labored breathing as they climbed higher up the mountains.  It seemed almost too quiet.  Where were the birds?  The wildlife?  Surely even in the mountains there should be some form of critters scurrying from their path.  Zuko didn’t believe in Genshi’s nonsense any more than Sokka did, but he had to admit the place seemed to exude an unwelcoming vibe.

Toph was the first one to break the silence.  “Umm, guys?”  Her voice sounded strained, tight.  “Please tell me that isn’t a noose swinging from that tree.”

“What?!” Suki yelped, spinning around and grabbing hold of Sokka.

Zuko clenched his fists and shot daggers at the blind girl.  “I thought I made myself clear.  I don’t want to hear any more of this–”

“No, she’s right,” Hakoda said grimly.  “Look.”

Zuko followed the direction of his stare to a nearby tree.  There, hanging from a tall branch was a frayed, moldy rope with a noose at its end, swaying gently in the wind.

“Oh my gods…” Suki whispered, covering her mouth.

“This is what I was talking about.”  Genshi shook her head, her voice quivering.  “I tried to tell you–”

“Oh, come on!” Sokka snapped, flailing his arms.  “It’s one rope with an empty loop at the end.  It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re right, it’s just one.  But there will be more.  Just be glad this one’s empty.  I’m telling you, this is child’s play compared to what’s out there.”

“I really don’t think that’s going to help, Genshi,” Hakoda chastised.  “There’s no need to panic about something like this.  Sokka’s right about one thing – it doesn’t point to anything.  Let’s all just stay calm and focused.  I think it may be time to regroup and summon another vision.  What do you say, Genshi?”

“We may not need to,” Zuko interrupted.  “Look.”

Just ahead of where they stood, on a muddy side trail, lay two distinct sets of footprints.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The afternoon brought with it the first snow Katara had seen in years.  The flakes fell sparingly at first, soft and feathery on her face, but before long the ground and trees were coated in a thin layer of white.

An emptiness gnawed at her belly.  Ozai was determined to stop as little as possible and Katara’s body was growing weary from exhaustion and little food.  What sustenance they had left had to be rationed to ensure it lasted the journey through the mountains.  Her head was reeling and her limbs trembled under the weight of her satchel.

Katara’s foot dragged over an exposed tree root and she stumbled forward.  She could not keep up much longer without something to eat.  Maybe she should say something.

To her relief, Ozai came to a stop below a tall ledge on which stood a giant tree.  Its roots were coiled entirely above ground, snaking out from the ledge to form a woven awning, as though it might get up and walk away at any moment.  He reached into his satchel and handed her some of the dried meat and fruit.  Katara’s stomach grumbled at the site and she could barely contain her dignity as she scarfed down the first bite.

Ozai brushed the dusty snow from a log before sitting down but then hesitated, his eyes cast down as though inspecting something.  He picked up what looked like a tiny scrap of paper.

“What is that?” Katara asked.

Ozai turned it over in his hand.  “I don’t know.”  Glancing down to where he found it, he gestured toward the ground.  “There’s more.”

Katara walked over and stooped down to see what looked like faded paper, ripped up into several pieces and scattered across the area.  On one she could see what looked like half a face, smiling.  She picked up a dozen others and laid them beside each other.  Fragments of smiling faces, all resembling each other and wearing earth kingdom clothing, began to materialize.  Her heart sank as the realization hit her.

“It’s a family portrait,” she whispered.  “Or it was, before someone tore it up.”  She could not tear her eyes from the faces that smiled back at her.  “Why would someone do that?”  A knot was forming itself in her stomach.

“Leave it,” he said, kicking the scraps of paper away.  “It’s not important.  Finish eating so we can keep moving.”

Katara’s arms fell limply to her sides.  “You’re not even a little bit weirded out by this?”

“No,” he stated with blank expression.  “Why should I be?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know,” she huffed.  “I’m thinking someone doesn’t just rip up a family portrait with a heart full of rainbows and sunshine.  Plus, this entire mountain is synonymous with death.  Hello, I just exhumed a dead body earlier on a harmless little trip for water.”  She gave a sardonic laugh and threw her arms in the air.  “Make fun of me all you want.  Yes, I’m a little creeped out.  Why?  Because, as I’ve mentioned before – you _may_ recall – I’ve had a really terrible feeling since the moment we entered here, like a thousand eyes watching our every move.”

Ozai stared at her with a condescending smirk, clapping his hands slowly.  “What a compelling argument,” he said with mock admiration.  “I guess there’s no disputing that evidence.  You know, it requires quite a bit of talent to take such giant, hasty leaps to one’s conclusions.  Bravo.”  He took a bite from the dried venison.  “Your emotions are running high and your imagination’s clouding your better judgment.  I’ve seen nothing yet that validates any of those old rumors or gives cause for such worry.”

Her hands curled into fists and she took a breath to speak, but let it go with a sigh.  She sat herself down and stared at her food.  Her appetite had weakened but she forced down the rest of her portion in silence.  Katara wanted desperately to believe she was wrong about all this.  Maybe Ozai had a point.  Why did the presence of one dead body and a ripped up portrait, eerie as they were, suddenly translate to evil spirits?  He was right, her emotions were running high.  Maybe this was exactly how the stories got started.  She felt embarrassed, but she couldn’t stop thinking that there was more to this than he gave credit for. 

What if he was wrong?  He would never admit it until he was staring evil itself it in the face.  It would clearly take more than just a few strange coincidences to convince him.  Katara shuddered.  She hoped against hope that he would never have to be convinced.  She could tolerate Ozai’s egomaniacal gloating on the other side if it meant escaping the mountains with their lives.

They walked again until darkness claimed the mountain.  Ozai and Katara set up their sleeping bags and ate the evening meal by the warmth of the fire.  Ozai did not say much.  A few times she thought she caught him staring at her from the corner of her eye, but when she turned he had glanced away.  Eventually he mumbled something under his breath and climbed into his sleeping bag for the night.  Katara watched the flames dance until they lulled her into a deep sleep.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Darkness.  All she could see was darkness.  She tried in vain to blink away the shadows.  Was she dreaming?

Katara took in a breath but it felt labored, heavy, like her lungs were made of lead.  As she tried to sit up, she realized to her horror that she could not move.  Her body was completely paralyzed, frozen.  Only her chest moved with its shallow, hampered breaths.  Her heart began pounding in her chest as a wave of panic crashed over her.  What was happening?

A dark form began to take shape over her.  A broad, muscular body.  A long, pointed head.  Whatever it was, she realized, was sitting on her chest, holding her down with its enormously long arms and legs.  Its red eyes glowed, illuminating the grotesque perversion of a smile as the thing grinned down at her.  She wanted to scream but she could only lay there, utterly helpless and vulnerable.

Out of its gruesome mouth slithered a forked tongue.  Claws dug into her skin through her cloak, tightening its grasp on her arms, as its face inched closer to hers and stopped a hair’s width from her nose.  The thing glared pointedly into her eyes with that evil grin as it slowly, torturously licked its serpentine tongue up the length of her face and back down again.  It studied her then and released a guttural growl that morphed into a cackle so sinister her hair stood on end.  And then slowly it faded into the night until the only thing that remained was the echo of that spine-chilling laugh.

The screams that had been bottled up inside her suddenly erupted as Katara bolted upright, flailing violently and scraping at her face, the memory of that demon’s tongue burned into her skin.  Ozai started awake beside her.  He tried to grab onto her but she screamed and struck his hand away.  Shrieking, she tore at her cloak wildly as though the evil still smothered her.

Somewhere in the madness of her frenzy, she heard a voice calling out her name.  Just an echo at first but growing louder and clearer.  She let the sound of it slowly draw her from her tumult.  Trembling, Katara looked up and saw Ozai’s face.  His arms were wrapped strongly around her to still her thrashing.

“Katara,” he said, softer this time.  “It’s all right.  It was just a bad dream.”

She let out a shuddering breath and could not contain the tears that spilled forth as she rested her head down against his shoulder.  Her body shook under the weight of her sobs.  Ozai placed a tentative hand on her head, stroking it across her hair.

“It’s all right,” he repeated, over and over, until she finally drifted off again to the smooth sound of his voice.

 .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai awoke to the faint smell of – was it water lilies?  He breathed deeply of the delicate scent.  As his eyes drifted open, he realized his face was buried in a sea of brown hair.  Katara’s hair.  His stomach tightened as mind began racing.  He knew he should push away.  He should want to put distance between them.  But he found himself savoring the smell of her, the closeness of her body as it molded to his.  Just one more minute.  Then he would forget it ever happened.  She would never have to know and that would be the end of it. 

Katara stirred and Ozai realized his arms were still wrapped tightly around her.  She drew a deep breath and her brow flickered.  She was waking up.  He did not have time to withdraw his arm, and even if he had, she would have noticed because in the last moments of sleep she turned her body to face his.  Her eyes opened slowly and then blinked, widening in awareness. 

A startled breath caught in her throat.  But to his surprise, she did not push away from him.  Her eyes flicked across his face, down to his lips, back to his eyes.  He felt something inside him burn at the way she studied him.  He needed to get away from her.

Instead he found himself lingering there, his arm still draped over her.  He opened his mouth to speak.

“No more nightmares?” he asked in a whisper.

Her face softened with the ghost of a smile.  “No more nightmares,” she responded, almost breathlessly.

Against his will, his eyes locked onto her lips.  She must have noticed because a sudden blush colored her cheeks as her lips parted in a delicate exhale.  Ozai was certain a mouth had never looked so tantalizing.  The thought was unsettling.  He had to get away from her.  Now.  Break away from whatever sorcery she had cast on him.

Ozai leaned back and pushed himself up to sitting.  He tried to think of anything to say that might dispel the thick cloud of tension in the air.

“So…” he faltered and cleared his throat.  “Pretty bad dream last night?”

“Yeah…”  Katara’s deep expression gave way to distress as she sat up beside him.  “Except it didn’t feel like a dream.  It was so real.  The demon.  The way it gripped my arms.  I can still feel its jagged tongue sliding up my face.”  She hugged her arms over her stomach and shuddered.

“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” he admitted.  “But it’s over now.  Dreams can’t harm you.”

Katara bit her lip as though in thought.  “I guess not,” she surrendered.

Ozai stood and grasped her arm to help her up.  She cried out and wrenched herself away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.  My arm.  It hurts.”

Katara took off her cloak and pulled up her sleeve.  She gasped and covered her mouth as Ozai drew back at the sight.  There on her upper arm were four very distinct claw marks.

Ozai felt the blood drain from his face.  His stomach dropped.  It couldn’t be true.  They were just folk tales.  Fireside stories.

“Oh my gods…” Katara whispered.  “My arm.  The demon.  It wasn’t a dream…”  She glared up at him, her brows quivering as tears pooled in her eyes.  “You said it wasn’t real!  I tried to tell you this whole time and you wouldn’t believe me!”  She started to storm off and then whirled back around toward him.  “Well, _now_ do you believe me?!”

“All right, just calm down!”  He paced away from her and then back again.  “Maybe there’s another explanation–”

“Are you serious right now?!  There are claw marks…  On my arm!”  She thrust her wound toward him emphatically.

“Shh!  Keep your voice down.”  Ozai sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.  “Okay, fine.  Yes, I believe you.”

He could not believe he was admitting it, even to himself, but he had been wrong.  Gravely wrong.  And from what Katara had told him, they were up against more than just a bunch of mindless spirits.  _Dammit_.  Getting through the Bashou Mountains was no small feat in its own right.  But with the added threat of blood-thirsty demons, he feared it would be next to impossible.  It was a mistake to choose this route – he could see that now – a mistake that might prove all too costly.

Katara’s shoulders sagged.  Her breathing slowed as she looked up at him, scared, defeated.

“What do we do?”

“What do you think?  We move as fast as possible and get the hell out of here.  That’s what we do.  We can take shifts keeping watch at night.  That seems to be the focus of the activity so far.  During the day we move.  We eat on the go.  We don’t stop.  Understand?”

She nodded, her lip quivering in fear, like a frightened child.  Ozai fought back the urge to wrap her in his arms.  Why did he suddenly care so much for her?

“Let’s go,” he said, handing her a morsel of dried meat.  “We’re wasting precious daylight.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Bickering voices pulled Zuko out of a sound sleep.  He cracked his eyes open and saw Sokka and Genshi silhouetted in the pale light of dawn, face to face in a heated argument.  Groaning, he forced himself to sit up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  Why did he always have to be the mediator?

Zuko glanced around the campsite and drew in a breath at what he saw.  Their bags had been thrown open, knick knacks and belongings strewn all over the ground.  It was like a small tornado had ravaged their campsite overnight.  But their sleep had been undisturbed under the mountain’s thick blanket of silence.  Even now, the voices of his comrades felt like an intrusion, grating metal in the vast stillness.

Hakoda and Suki had begun picking up the scattered items and placing them by their respective bags.  Toph was still in her sleeping bag, snoring away.  She could always sleep through anything.

 “Why would I do something like this?” Genshi gestured wildly at the clutter.

Sokka erupted in scornful laughter.  “To make us all believe your stupid little ghost stories, obviously!”

“Ugh, that’s absurd!  What could I possibly have to gain from that?”

“You’re trying to turn the others against me and get them on your side.  Admit it!”

Zuko gritted his teeth and stalked up to them, fists clenched.  “Knock it off, both of you,” he barked.  “What’s going on?”

“Genshi went through everyone’s stuff and threw it all over the place to make it look like we’d been attacked by some spirit.”

“I did not!” she protested, turning to Zuko.  “Please, my lord, you have to believe me.”

“Enough of this!”  Zuko sliced his arms through the air and both of them fell silent.  “Ugh, do I have to add babysitter to my list of responsibilities now?  Act like adults and help Hakoda and Suki clean up this mess.  Then we’ll talk.”  He paused and then added, “And wake up Toph while you’re at it.”

Zuko heaved a sigh and bent down to pick up a small purse filled with Suki’s sewing materials, tossing it next to her bag.  Some of the things in her pile seemed out of place for such a long, grueling journey.  A small silver mirror.  A wooden comb in the shape of entwined dragons.  A silver hair pin with a bloodstone head.  _Women_ , he thought, shaking his head.

Once the damage had been cleaned up, the group sat down to eat before starting out again.  Sokka ate his food by his bag while he started packing.  Zuko was glad to trade the bickering for silence once again.  But it didn’t last long.  A few moments later, a voice bellowed behind them.

“Oh, nice touch, Genshi,” Sokka mocked.  “I’d love to know how got a hold of this little prop.  You know, if you’re trying to scare me into believing you, you’re gonna have to try a little harder.”

Zuko looked over his shoulder to see Sokka glaring at the conjurer and holding up a filthy, tattered noose.

“What are you talking about?” she huffed.  “I didn’t do that.”

“Right.  You’re telling me you didn’t stuff this into my bag last night?”

Zuko stopped chewing mid-bite and glanced at Genshi.  Her face contorted in a palpable fear that made his stomach turn to ice.

“No,” she whispered.  “I didn’t.”  Her tone was sincere, unarguable.  Zuko saw the color drain from her face.

The young warrior blinked, the anger slowly melting off his face.  “Well, then… how did it get here?”

Nervous glances passed between the group of friends.  No one said anything.  Zuko realized no one needed to.  They had all at once realized the same thing.  Genshi may have been right.

They weren’t alone.


	26. Chapter 26

Ozai’s face was frozen, numb.  The condensation from his breath clung to his skin and beard in tiny crystals of ice.  He pulled his cloak tighter and tried to steel himself again the biting winds.  His feet were starting to lose feeling as he and Katara trudged through the snow that had fallen deep and heavy over the past day.  At least a foot if he had to guess, and still coming down in thick white sheets.  He clenched his jaw and cursed inwardly.  This was what he had strived so desperately to avoid.  He had known his time was short before the onset of winter, but he had thought he would make it.  That was before all the setbacks and obstacles.  And the mountains.  He was terribly unaccustomed to snow and cold weather, to say nothing of the peaks’ subzero temperatures and frequent blizzards.  Even Katara, with her natural affinity to the cold, seemed vastly uncomfortable.

They traveled for hours without speaking, saving their breath and energy for the grueling work of their bodies.  The land was a desert of white.  So bleak and forsaken that the essence of it was not even that of sorrow.  There was a hint of laughter in it, but of a laughter more terrible than any sorrow – a laughter as mirthless as winter itself, as bitter as frostbite and just as deadly.

At a steep precipice, Ozai hoisted himself up and then extended his hand down to Katara.  She squinted her eyes against the icy pellets and placed her hand in his.  Grasping her arm with his other hand, he helped her scale the sharp incline.  Reaching the top, her foot slipped and Ozai stumbled back slightly, catching her as she fell into his arms.  Their eyes locked in an electrical embrace.  Ozai felt his insides warm at the way her lips parted in a subtle, unintended display of longing.  His throat tightened and he tried to swallow past the ache inside.

Against his will, he broke the gaze and steadied her feet.  Turning to walk on, he dared one last glance and realized her hand still occupied his.  Quickly, he pulled away and started off again, shoving his hands inside his cloak.  Cursing his weakness, he reminded himself of his resolve not to be drawn in by her.

An hour went by in silence, and then another hour.  The pale light of the sunless day was beginning to drain from the sky when something caught in Ozai’s vision.  He waved his hand at Katara to get her attention and put a silencing finger to his lips.  Pointing off in the distance, he nodded toward a dark shape in the colorless void up ahead, faint and hazy amidst the thick cloud of white.  Her eyes locked onto it and then shot back to him, the unspoken question on her lips.  Something was moving in the snowy woods.  A single spot of color.

Ozai dragged her behind a nearby tree and flattened himself against it, peering around the side.  Whatever it was did not seem to be moving too quickly.  Hopefully they would have time to distance themselves before it got much closer.  He examined the landscape for the quickest and most concealed route from its trajectory.  It might be nothing, debris carried by the wind maybe, but he was not willing to wait around to find out.

His mouth hovered over Katara’s ear in a whisper.  “We’ll cut through at a diagonal and pick up our trail further on, once we’ve passed it,” he said, pointing out the route.  “I think it’s best to play it safe knowing what we know now.”  She nodded in agreement.  Ozai tightened his cloak and peered around the tree once more before setting out.

They trekked through the snow as quickly as they could.  Small, stinging pellets of ice swirled in the wind, biting their faces as snow crunched beneath their feet.   Dusk was descending rapidly amidst the thick tree cover and visibility was growing poor, but there was no sign of the dark object behind them.  Whatever it was, it seemed they had lost it.  Ozai and Katara slowed their pace slightly to catch their breath.  When darkness was complete, they finally stopped beneath a cluster of barren trees and set up camp.  A hollow, overturned tree served as their shelter.

“I’ll take the first shift and keep a lookout,” Ozai volunteered, taking a seat inside the tree.  He waved her toward her sleeping bag next to him.  “You’re exhausted.  Get some rest.”

Katara did not argue.  They said nothing more and the next time he turned to her, she was asleep.

The howl of the cutting wind was muffled within the tree’s concave walls.  Inside, the air was stale, filled with the smell of decaying bark and dead leaves and the brightness of fresh snow that had blown in.  Ozai picked up a skeletal twig and turned it in his fingers as he peered from their pitiable shelter into the night.

It took strength and resolve he did not know he possessed to keep his eyes open.  Ozai was not sure how long he had been sitting there, struggling to stay awake, but it must have been hours.  And he was in dire want of sleep.  Leaning over, he gently shook Katara awake.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing to her.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly.  “It’s okay,” she said, her voice still lost in sleep.  “It’s your turn to rest.”

Katara took his place at the lookout and rubbed her face in her hands.  Ozai felt a pang of pity for her as he crawled into his sleeping bag beside her.  She looked so pathetic and exhausted.  But he knew he could not last much longer awake and someone had to keep watch.  He would take over after a few hours of rest.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Blood.  There was blood everywhere.  Ozai wanted to scream.  The agony was excruciating, unbearable.  But he could not move, could not utter a sound.

Something tore into the flesh of his arm again and the pain ripped through him.  His eyes moved to see a ghastly hag of a woman, emaciated, a thin layer of skin stretched across bone.  From her jagged teeth hung shreds of his own flesh, tattered and dripping with blood.  The hag moaned in ecstasy, eyes rolling to white, as though relishing the taste of his flesh.  Ozai could only watch in horror as she bit into him again, tearing muscle from bone, blood spilling in a torrent from the cavernous wound.  He prayed for death to come quickly, to end his suffering.  But death would not come.

And then slowly, inexplicably, the old woman began fading into the night.  Her form grew transparent until it was nothing more than a shadow above him. 

The silent scream inside him was building, and as the last of her gruesome shape diminished, Ozai sat up with a sharp cry, coming out of the nightmare with a jolt.  It was a moment before he remembered where he was.  He rubbed his hand feverishly over his arm to find the skin as it had always been.  Smooth.  In tact.  Sweat streamed down his chest despite the bitter chill.  Letting out his breath, he raked shaking hands back through his hair and dragged in air.  Blinking away the panic, he noticed that the place Katara had been seated was vacant.

Something stirred beside him.  Ozai looked down to see her then, asleep, roused slightly by his outburst.  The exhaustion must have taken her suddenly because she was not even in her sleeping bag.  She was huddled next to him, shivering against the cold.  Her skin had paled, her lips drained of their natural blush.  Ozai felt a chill just looking at her.  Instinctively, she nestled closer to him to find warmth.

His body tensed.  He did not have the heart to wake her and he was far too weary to take watch.  Against his better judgment, he wrapped his cloak around her and pulled her into him.  Just this one night.  He could let go of his inhibitions this once for the sake of survival.  He needed her alive.  There was nothing more to it than that, he told himself.

Nothing more at all.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko tossed and turned beneath a restless sleep.  His dreams were absent, filled with a black void of nothingness, but the undulation of a deep whirring sound in his ear kept him from the tide of sleep.  Like the wings of a thousand bats beating in the darkness.  It would fade, and slumber would start to take him, but then the keening would rise higher, pulling him back up again.  It was maddening.  He understood now why sleep deprivation was used as a form of torture.

A flurry of motion enveloped him suddenly, dark, fluttering, painful.  He tried to wake himself from whatever strange nightmare was ravaging him.  But he found himself trapped in a place between sleep and wake, conscious yet unable to stop it.  A prisoner in his own body.  His skin stung all over as though he were being bitten in a thousand places.  Zuko writhed against the pain for what felt like hours until eventually it released him and faded away.  Still, as his heartbeat slowed, he could only lie there in his sleeping bag, powerless, unable to bring himself out of his waking coma.

His eyes opened again with the first light of dawn.  As Zuko emerged into consciousness, he thought he heard something like the keening of bats fleeing away.  His eyes felt weighted, his whole body aching from the night’s torment.  Crawling out of his sleeping bag, he winced at a sudden stinging on his abdomen.  Lifting his shirt, his blood turned cold at what he saw.  Hundreds of tiny scratches marred his flesh.  Most were superficial but some had cut deeper, crusted with dried blood.  He examined the rest of him – his arms, legs.  Every inch of skin seemed to bear the same nicks and scratches.  The realization hit him like a physical blow.  It hadn’t been a dream.  Something had attacked him in the night. 

His thoughts turned to his friends.  Had they suffered the attack too?  Or had he been the sole target?  And what about Katara?  His heart fell at the thought of her lying hurt, terrified, the victim of an unseen evil.  They had to find her and get out of this abominable place while they still could.  It could have his father as far as he was concerned.  He belonged in such a hell.

Sokka had risen and was munching on some moose jerky when he glanced over at Zuko.  A furrowed brow replaced his calm expression.

“You look terrible,” he said.  “Are you feeling okay?”

Zuko wanted to laugh.  He could always count on Sokka to say exactly what he was thinking.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, not wanting to draw unnecessary worry.

A frown creased his friend’s face.  “Is that all?” he pressed further.  “You don’t look so good.”

Zuko hesitated, wondering if he should speak of the night’s assault, but thought better of it.  He would know soon enough whether he had been the primary focus.  Unwarranted fear would only breed panic and that could be a death trap in these labyrinthine mountains. 

“It’s nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”

To his relief Sokka dropped it, but Zuko could tell by his expression he was not satisfied with the answer.  He knew him far too well to slip something by him so easily.

After breakfast, they packed up and summoned another vision.  The heavy snow had long since erased the trail of footsteps they had been following.  Genshi led the way on a slightly altered course.  The terrain was more hostile, jagged and unpredictable, as though the land itself was against them, laughing as it thwarted their progress.  For every step forward, they seemed to take three steps back.  They learned to take every stride with caution or else risk falling into a hidden crevice.  Zuko could feel the grip of despair growing stronger.  They would never make enough headway at this speed.  What if they never found Katara?  What if they never made it out of here alive?

The five of them struggled up a steep, nearly vertical, incline.  No one said anything about the nooses that were starting to appear more frequently on the trees along their route, but he was sure they didn’t go unnoticed.  He supposed there was not much use in talking about it.  They were far beyond the point of no return. 

Appa dragged behind them, snorting out weary breaths.  Zuko had noticed an unsettling change in the bison since their entrance into the mountains.  Appa had always been more sensitive to the things unseen, but it seemed the darkness of this place was leeching into him, slowly draining his life force away.  He did not have the energy to take flight anymore and could barely keep pace with them on foot.  Zuko did not want to alarm anyone, but he could see in Appa the first signs of what this place might do to them if they did not get out soon.

The steep path finally plateaued into a level area forested by a thick grove of trees.  As Zuko struggled to catch his breath, his eyes locked onto something swaying gently in the wind between the trees.  Something large.  He swallowed the lump in his throat and signaled the others to stay put as he crept closer to investigate.  A gust of wind drove a cloud of icy flakes into his face, stinging his skin.  He forced his eyes into a squint and peered harder through the trees. 

For a moment he was not sure he was seeing correctly.  Zuko blinked and wiped the snow from his eyes.  And then suddenly, he felt the breath sucked from his lungs, like a blow to the stomach.  There in the middle of the grove, where a cluster of trees formed a near perfect circle, hung the badly decomposed bodies of six corpses.  Their heads were slumped over at an unnatural angle, clothes hanging like a sheet from their wasted bodies.  What remained of their faces still held a glimpse of their last moments – mouths agape in shock, eyes bulging as the horror set in, expressions twisted into a terror only those meeting death could know. 

Zuko felt his stomach clench and thought he might gag.  He opened his mouth to call out to his friends but the words wouldn’t come.  As he started to turn around, his body felt weighted, his head heavy.  The world around him was growing darker and darker, closing in.  He felt his body sinking to the ground.  And just before the last of the darkness swallowed his vision, he was sure he saw the head of one of the corpses turn to him.  Its face was twisted into a wicked grin.  Holding up an emaciated arm, it gestured with a finger for him to come closer.

Somewhere, far away, he could hear familiar voices calling out to him.  But they were not real.  Not to him.  Not in this time or place.  All he could feel, all that mattered to him, was the strong pull toward the phantom that beckoned.  An urge to obey the call, a yearning for what awaited him beyond.

 _“He’s not breathing!”_ a voice echoed.

_“What’s happening to him?  We can’t lose him like this!”_

A blow to the side of the head dispelled the darkness.  Zuko came out of his trance with a groan, holding his head as he rolled on the ground.

“Quick thinking, Toph,” Sokka said.

Zuko cradled his head and tried to sit up.  “Wh– What happened?” he mumbled.

Beside him, the shrill of Suki’s scream was an ice pick to his head.

“The trees!  There’s dead people hanging from them!”

Heads turned with a resounding gasp.  Zuko just tried to massage his aching temples.  They must have been too distracted with him to take notice before.

“I _told_ you this would happen,” Genshi cried through rasping breaths.  “We’re doomed.”

“Shut up, Genshi!” Sokka spat.  “Zuko, what happened to you?”

“I– I don’t know.  Everything just went dark, I didn’t have control anymore.  And then it was like I was somewhere else.  In a different time.  Like I wasn’t me.”

Silence bespoke the group’s trepidation.  Eyebrows raised in uneasy glances.

“Look, let’s just keep moving,” Hakoda urged.  “I think we’d all be comfortable and think more clearly somewhere else.”

“You said it,” Suki piped up.  “I’m gonna have nightmares tonight, for sure.”

Hakoda and Sokka each took one of Zuko’s arms to help him along but he shook them off.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, staggering to catch his balance.  He sighed and shot them a desperate look.  “Really.  I’m fine.  Let’s just go.”  The two men exchanged hesitant expressions but reluctantly released him from their grasp.

Straightening his shoulders, Zuko cast a last glance behind him at the bodies.  They all looked just as they had before.  Lifeless, heads bowed toward the earth.  There wasn’t any sign they had moved the way he had imagined it.  Maybe he was going crazy.  The idea was oddly comforting.  He would much prefer that over what he had imagined and felt in that moment of darkness.

They walked over snowbanks and ice-covered slopes.  A burst of wind blew swirls of snow in their path and sliced at Zuko’s face.  His breath sawed at his throat, lungs aching from the cold air.  The energy was seeping from his body with every step.  Like a tiny crack spreading through a giant dam, weakening it to inevitable collapse.  He squinted, pushing harder into the wind, and tried to put it from his mind.  All that mattered was Katara, he chanted to himself.  Katara.  Katara.

They passed a clearing that Zuko might have paid no mind to had it not been for the knots of charred logs protruding from the snow.  Around it, specks of black soot dotted the blanket of white.  Someone had built a fire here.  Not long ago.

“They were here,” he shouted over the wind.  The others stopped and turned, grey clouds of their breath whisked away by the wind.  Zuko directed their gaze toward the remnant camp site.  “We’re on the right track.”

“How can you be sure it was them?” Sokka shouted back.

“The char on the logs is still fresh.  Who else would come through these mountains in the dead of winter?”  The warrior nodded his agreement.  “This can only mean one thing…” Zuko continued.  “We’re getting closer.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara awakened from a quiet sleep to the wind whispering outside their shelter.  It was the first restful sleep she could remember having in far too long.  Pale light streamed in through a crack in the hollow tree.  It seemed morning had come without a single disturbance during the night.  A welcomed reprieve.  If the turmoil could slow enough for them to gather their wits about them, maybe they would have a chance to get out of this place. 

She drew a deep breath into her lungs and became suddenly aware of the strong arm wrapped tightly around her.  The warm body pressed against her back.  Ozai.  The breath caught in her throat.  She could not remember falling asleep with him.  How had she ended up in his arms? 

A soft wisp of breath warmed her neck and made her heart flutter.  Was he awake?  Or was he still sleeping, oblivious to the way they were intertwined?  She stirred slightly to test his reaction.  He didn’t move.  Probably sleeping.  Her muscles relaxed a bit.  Good.  She was in no hurry to get up anyway.  It was warm and cozy beside him and her head was still foggy with sleep.  But the side of her body that had been lying on the hard, knobby shell of the tree all night was sore and aching.  She turned slowly, so as not to wake him, until they were face to face.  With a silent sigh, she was about to settle back in when her heart jumped into her throat.  Ozai’s eyes were open and drilling into her.  A hint of a smirk danced behind them.

“How long have you been awake?” she gasped as the wind rushed from her lungs.

“Long enough,” he lilted.  “Making yourself comfortable?”

Katara’s face burned with a deep blush.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, scurrying to sit up.  “I don’t know how…”

“It’s okay.”  Ozai interrupted her broken rambling and sat up beside her.  Katara could not bring herself to face him.  “Though normally there would be consequences for someone who abandons their post.”

She heard the smile in his voice and looked up to see his mouth turned up in a smirk.  Katara searched his eyes for a moment.  There were flecks of different golds and browns she had never noticed in his irises.  They were beautiful.

“I found you asleep,” he clarified.  “You were completely comatose and starting to freeze.  Literally.”

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered, shaking her head.  She turned away, embarrassed, but a warm hand on her arm drew her gaze back again.  Katara opened her mouth to speak but the words eluded her.  There was a glint of something in his eyes that made her insides burn.  She blinked at the surprise of it and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

Slowly, almost subtly, his fingers slid up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps blooming in their wake.  His eyes flicked to her lips and then locked onto hers again.  Katara’s heart drummed erratically in her chest.

“Listen, Katara…” he began.  His voice was almost a whisper, low and gravelly.  But his lips pressed into a frown and she felt him draw his hand back as he averted his eyes.  He started to pull away when she found herself reaching out to place her hand on his, encouraging him to stay.  Their eyes met again, timid, uncertain.

Katara didn’t mean to lean forward.  It was as though an unseen force was drawing her into him and she was powerless to stop it.  Or perhaps she did not want to stop it.  But what did it matter?  A warm wisp of his breath grazed her face as Ozai leaned into her, slowly, hesitantly.  And before she had time to think, her lips were upon his in the slightest brush of a kiss.  Her eyes fluttered closed as their lips met, gentle and soft and startled.

His mouth moved slowly at first, with a softness and uncertainty that belied his callous nature.  A tentative hand came up to cup her face, his thumb sweeping across her skin.  Katara drank him in, relishing in the rapture of his touch, the softness of his lips.  She brought her own hand to rest on his as a wave of longing crashed over her.  She tilted her head and parted her lips to deepen the kiss.  Ozai took her cue and drew her into him, his lips crushing hers with a growing hunger.  His hand moved with purpose from her face to her neck, entwining his fingers in her hair to hold her there. 

A soft moan escaped her lips as Katara wrapped her arms around his neck, raking her hands through silky, ebony hair.  She took in his smell, that distinct scent of smoldering firewood.  It was intoxicating.  Ozai broke away from her lips and kissed her jaw, nibbling softly before descending to her neck.  He peppered kisses down her throat, drawing a gasp of pleasure from her as her heart raced wildly. 

He made his way back up and crashed his lips upon hers once more when a loud _crack_ from outside their shelter startled them apart.  Katara’s heart was still racing and her head was in a fog as she tried to discern the source of the sound.  For several moments it was quiet.  She raised an eyebrow at Ozai but he shook his head, uncertain.

And then it came again, louder this time, followed by a deafening _crash_.  The intensity of it made her jump.  Exchanging a quick glance, they scrambled to their feet and rushed from the shelter.  They stopped short with a sudden gasp and Katara’s stomach turned to ice.  A huge tree had inexplicably broken in half, the top half lying on its side next to their shelter.  But it was something else entirely that made her blood run cold.  Painted in a thick, tarry substance on every tree that circled their campsite were the most evil, disturbing faces she had ever seen.  And they were smiling.  Each face was more sinister than the last.

“Oh my gods,” she managed under her breath.  “Ozai…”

He didn’t respond.  Katara tried to remember if she had noticed them the night before.  It was dark.  It was possible she had missed them.  But somehow she didn’t think so.  Even in the dark, she was certain she would have noticed something like that.  And what could explain that giant tree spontaneously breaking in half like that?

“I think we should leave.  Now.”  Her voice wavered in a frightened whisper.

Ozai nodded.  “Let’s go.”

They had never packed up their gear in such a hurry.  Before long, they had put the spine-chilling sight behind them and trekked through the snow-covered mountains once more.  The sea of trees seemed to be thinning somewhat.  And maybe it was her imagination, but the terrain seemed to be on a slight decline.  They were on their way down!  With a smile, Katara glanced behind her as though to bid the mountains an early farewell.  But as she turned around, the smile melted off her face.  In dismay, she felt her heart drop.

“Ozai!” she cried out.  “There’s that… thing again.”

The black form they had seen in the distance yesterday had appeared again, only this time is was closer.  Unnervingly closer.  It was still impossible to discern what it was, but it was obvious that it was humanoid.

“Whatever it is is following us.”  She pointed in its direction.  Ozai nodded sternly.

“We have no choice but to keep moving,” he said.  “Try to lose it.  If it catches up to us… well, we’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“But, Ozai –”

“Listen!” he interrupted her protest.  His voice softened again.  “It’ll be okay.  We’ll make it.”

He took hold of her arm and let his fingers run down it until they reached her hand, clasping it with a gentle tenacity.

“Let’s just get the hell out of these mountains.”


	27. Chapter 27

The day drew on and with it came the assurance that they were indeed on the descent.  The proud mountain was finally bowing toward the lowly earth.  Katara would have leaped for joy had it not been for the knot that twisted her stomach.  Whatever was tracking them was growing closer at a frightening speed.  So close that Katara could already make out minute details of its figure – two legs, two arms.  Definitely humanoid.  Except there was nothing human about it, of that she was certain.  She couldn’t quite place it, but something about it was just very wrong.  The snow, ice, and harsh terrain slowed their progress and drained their energy.  How could it possibly be moving so quickly?

Day turned to dusk and dusk drained to night.  The snow had moved on and the moon was riding high, a faint halo behind the hazy veil of clouds.  And there was still no sign of retreat from their hunter.  The realization hit her like a kick in the gut: it was never going to stop.  Not until it reached them.  Something told her they would never live to see another sunrise if that happened.  Despair sunk Katara’s heart like a ball of lead.  Her strength was ebbing so fast.

“What are we going to do?” she panted, trying to ignore the intense burning in her legs with each step.  “It just keeps gaining on us.  We can’t keep up like this much longer without rest.”

“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?  I’m not too eager to find out what that thing wants with us.”

A muscle cramp gnawed at her side and Katara clutched her stomach.  She grimaced and shook her head.  “I don’t think I can make it,” she managed, her breathing growing toilsome.

Ozai glanced over at her, short puffs of his breath drifting away like ghosts.  He placed a firm, tender grasp on her arm before looking forward again.

“You’ll make it,” he said.  “Even if I have to drag you myself.”  He gave her arm a light squeeze before letting go a bit too quickly.  Katara could feel the awkwardness in his touch and her heart quivered.  Between running from their tracker and the pain, she had momentarily forgotten about this morning.  The kiss… 

Oh, that kiss.  Her eyes drifted closed in a sigh as the memory flooded back to her.  She stole a glance at Ozai.  His eyes were fixed straight ahead, determination etched in his hardened brows.  She wished she could read his thoughts.  Had it been just a moment of weakness?  Did he regret it?  Or was the hesitance she now felt in his touch a mark of something deeper?  A sign that it had been real, not just to her but to him.  And perhaps now, in all his pride and over-confidence, there was something he had not planned for, something he was suddenly unsure what to with, and that scared him.  The idea drew a faint smile on her lips.  She hoped it was the latter.

Another dense blanket of cloud rolled in and snuffed out the halo of moonlight.  The darkness of the forest was beyond imagining.  It was endless, an eternal black void engulfing them with no hope of reaching dawn.  Hours passed unbearably slowly in the unyielding blackness.  Katara was almost convinced that dawn would never come when the first streaks of light lined the eastern sky.  With a sigh of relief, she looked behind her only for the terror to come crashing down again.  Somehow in the night, their hunter had gained more than a day’s distance at their pace.  That wasn’t possible.  They were already going as fast as the merciless mountain would let them.

“You shouldn’t have looked back.  It’ll only upset you.”  Ozai’s voice was deep and solemn.  Katara looked over at him, puzzled.  He didn’t bother turning to her; he just stared with callous eyes into the nothingness ahead.  She felt a spark of annoyance burning at his impervious attitude.

“But that… _thing_ ,” she pointed behind her.  “It’s–”

“Closer, I know.”

“A lot–!”

“I _know_.  And it’ll only keep getting closer.  But you’re wasting what little energy you have left by turning around every few miles.  Maybe your attention is motivating it.  Just ignore it.”

Katara huffed her annoyance.  Right, that always worked.  Ignore her problems and they would all just magically disappear.  _Poof_.  Into thin air.

She sighed, realizing the anger was sucking away her energy.  Closing her eyes, she took a breath and let it go slowly, willing the anger away with it.  Maybe he was right.  Maybe her obsession with it was giving it power somehow.  She had to stay focused on getting out of here.  To that end, nothing else mattered.

They walked through the day, eating bits of food as they could, always moving.  Katara fought the urge to look behind her and instead concentrated on preserving her strength as best she could.  By the time the pale daylight began melting into evening again, her head was pounding, her eyes blurred from lack of sleep.  The dull pang of nausea twisted her stomach.  There was no way she could go any further without rest.  Her whole body was heavy, shaking limbs threatening to give out.  She could feel the fatigue looming like a dark cloud, just waiting to swallow her up.  Shadow was creeping into the edge of her vision as a faint ringing settled in her ears.  Her head felt funny, like she was floating.  The ringing grew louder and louder, until it drowned out everything completely.  And as the darkness swallowed the rest of her vision, she felt her body hit the ground, buried in a casket of ice and snow.

Somewhere far away, she could hear Ozai’s voice calling to her, his strong arms wrapping around her limp body.  A cold hand cupped her face, shaking her gently.

_Katara…  Katara…_

Her name on his lips beckoned her back.  With a silent groan, her listless eyes flickered open.  It felt as though hours had passed, but Katara could tell from the light left in the sky that it had only been minutes.  For a moment, she could not move.  She could only lie there in his arms, staring numbly into those amber eyes.  A small place inside her quivered at the concern painted on his face, in spite of her weakness.

Clutching her to him, Ozai turned to look behind them and blinked in what looked like confusion.  As the strength began to return to her slowly, she managed to follow the direction of his stare.  Katara’s lips parted in shock.

“It’s gone,” Ozai whispered, taking the words from her mouth.  They sat together in stunned silence for several moments, as though expecting to see it cross their path again.

“How?” Katara breathed.

Ozai shook his head.  “I don’t know.  But it doesn’t matter.  It’s gone.  All that matters now is getting rest while we can.  And we’re setting up right here.”

“But there’s not much to hide us here.  We’re sort of out in the open.”

“You’re in no condition to move,” he insisted, laying her down tenderly as he started unpacking their gear.  “We can sleep at the foot of that tree over.  We’ll be fine.”

She didn’t have the strength to argue.  A rush of icy air swept across her as Ozai unwrapped his arms from around her.  Pushing up to his knees, he held out his hand.

“Think you can get to your feet?”

Katara clasped her hand around his.  “I think so,” she groaned as Ozai pulled her slowly up to standing.  Clutching his arms for balance, after a moment she let him lead her step by step over the short distance to an old, giant tree. 

Dusk was cloaking the mountain as Ozai finished laying out the sleeping bags.  Katara stumbled toward her bed, ready to throw herself down, when her eyes met with Ozai’s.  A fluttering in her stomach sent a wave of goosebumps over her skin.  They were settling down to sleep.  Next to each other.  And they still hadn’t talked about what had happened in that little tree shelter.

The two of them stood beside their respective sleeping bags, eyes locked in a heavy exchange.  Katara hugged her arms to her chest.  It was hard not to notice the too-large gap between their sleeping spaces.  Was he trying to make a point?  Her stomach hardened as it dawned on her.  Of course he was.  She suddenly wanted to shrink inside herself.  Her face felt impossibly hot as a blush crept across her cheeks.  Face turning toward the ground, her fingers fidgeted together mindlessly as she tried to swallow past the ache. 

Ozai cleared his throat.  “Get some rest.”  He nodded toward her sleeping bag as he finally lied down and wrapped himself in his own.

Katara bit her lip and looked away before gingerly pulling the cover back, sliding into it.  That was it?  _Get some rest?_   Why had she expected anything to actually change?  With the frozen ground at her back, she stared up at the sky, wishing she could be invisible.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai rested on his side, watching Katara as the minutes dragged on, drowned in silence.  Her eyes flitted across the dull blanket of darkening clouds above.  A muscle in her jaw tightened and relaxed, over and over again, as she stared skyward.  He did not have to guess at what had upset her.  His gaze fell.  He couldn’t blame her.  Not talking about what had happened, about their palpable attraction to one another, was like trying to ignore an uncontrolled fire.  But he simply could not do it.  Would not do it.  Talking about it gave it life.  Gave it power.  He did not want to surrender himself to that.

He watched her chest rise and fall with a deep, silent sigh.  It was never supposed to happen this way.  It had all seemed so simple at first.  His plan had been perfect, flawless.  Ozai had only meant to earn her trust, manipulate her to his advantage.  He had never expected his own heart to get in the way.  The heart he had sworn had stopped beating long ago.

Unsolicited, a new thought began to emerge in the back of his mind like a toxic weed taking root – first a stem, then a node, then leaves opened up, beginning to strangle him.  In order to catch a fish, he realized, one must be willing to lose the bait. 

She was the bait. 

If his ultimate plan succeeded, he would be forced to give up Katara.

_Give up Katara…_

A surge of something he couldn’t identify crashed over him, like a breaking wave.  He struggled to breathe, fought through the stifling weakness and pushed it from his mind.  He could not think about any of that now.  It had been clear from the start how it would all end.  He just hadn’t anticipated how the tables would turn on him.  How he would come to care so much.

Ozai studied her soft features, the untamed curls in her hair.  Wild yet beautiful.  Like her.  Perhaps he would lose her in the end.  But she was here with him now.  In this moment.  Without thinking, he felt his hand reach out, the tips of his fingers just barely kissing her fingertips.  Katara turned toward him, her soulful eyes drifting up to meet his.  Ozai’s lips parted with words that would not come.  She must have read the discord in his eyes, for she tentatively spread her fingers and interlaced them with his.  His thumb swept lightly across her hand as they lied there in the quiet darkness, their eyes speaking everything they were unable to say.  And then slowly she scooted herself toward him until her body was inches from his, the sweetness of her breath on his face.

Ozai pressed back the voice that whispered its warning and ran the tips of his fingers lightly from the tender skin of her wrist to the crook of her elbow.  She shivered as he pushed the weight of her hair off her shoulder, lifting his hand to cup the side of her neck.  His eyes drank her in, lingering on her lips before pulling back to her eyes.  The glimmer of longing he found there ignited a spark somewhere deep inside him.  He started to lean in and then stopped himself.  His breath caught as her eyes began to flutter closed.  The taste of her lips had haunted his every moment since their first kiss.  Deep in his heart he had already realized that once would never have been enough for him.  Against every doubt and protest, he closed the gap and their lips met, breathlessly.

Ozai kissed her, softly at first, succumbing to a growing hunger that threatened to tear him apart.  He was drowning, engulfed in his opposing element, slowly suffocating him yet giving him life.  He fought it back and drank it in at the same time.  Katara wrapped her arms around his neck and wound her fingers through his hair, twisting them tight to pull him closer.  A low sound pitched in the back of his throat.  He inhaled her wintry scent, soaking in every part of her like he never had before.  His tongue skimmed along her bottom lip.  Sweet, like rosewater and lilies.  His teeth closed around it, nibbling hungrily.  A sigh of ecstasy escaped her as his hand went around the small of her back, pulling her tight against him.  She moaned.  He could feel Katara’s heart racing, flush against his own, as he rolled her back onto the ground, her body warm and slender and perfect under his.

And then they were tangled, limbs tied up in knots.  The mix of strife and desire filled him like a hot poison.  An icy trickle of stray snow melted down the inside of his chest and he shivered.  Ozai was freezing and burning at the same time.  The mountains so cold and her mouth so hot.  Their breathing was heavy, erratic as a hand slipped under her cloak, the folds of her tunic, the edge of her bindings.

_Give up Katara…_

The thought came crushing down again, smothering him like a lead blanket.  His stomach twisted.  With a gasp, he broke away.  Katara blinked at the sudden disruption.

Ozai struggled to catch his breath for a moment, hovering on elbows above her.  “I’m sorry,” he rasped, turning his face away.  His chest still heaved with each breath as he pushed himself up.  He raked shaking hands through his hair and tried to slow his racing heart.  Katara followed him, eyebrows pulled together. 

“For what?” she managed, eyes still glazed with passion.  Her head shook in confusion.  “I don’t–”

“I just…  I don’t want…”  He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear the sweltering fog from his head.  “This isn’t fair.  Not to you.  Not to me.”

Her eyes widened, shadowed by furrowed brows, as the implication sunk in.   “ _What_ isn’t fair?”  Her voice took on a new tone.  Raw.  Defensive.  “What do you mean?”

“You _know_ what I mean.”  His voice was edging quickly to match hers.  “We’ve both known all along how this situation plays out.”

“I thought I told you.  Whatever your plan is, whatever you think you have to prove, it doesn’t have to be that way.  I’m staying, remember?”  Her hand reached out, quiet and gentle on his arm.  “I _want_ to.  You can start fresh, forget your past.  Forget it all.”

“Katara…”  Her name on his lips was suddenly too intimate.  Too comfortable.  He cursed inwardly.  “You’re fooling yourself if you think any of this will change the ending.  It won’t.  It doesn’t.”  His eyes fell from hers in a frown.  “This can’t go on.”

Her mouth went slack, opening and closing in silent shock.  “So… that’s it then?” she choked out a bitter laugh.  “After everything that’s happened.  After all we’ve been through together.  After… _this_.”  She waved her hand between them.  “A few well-chosen words, a spineless excuse, and we carry on as before?  Pretend like none of this ever happened?”

“None of this was ever supposed to happen!”

“But it did!”  She huffed, shook her head in a grimace.  Her narrowed eyes shot icy daggers through his heart.  “Maybe you _are_ weak,” she managed in a scratchy half-whisper.  “Maybe your father was right about you.”

The words burned like acid.  His eyes widened to white as anger pulsed a surge of red heat through his body.  Fingernails cut into the palms of his white-knuckled fists.

“I would be very, _very_ careful if I were you,” he hissed, muscles quivering.  His hand coiled tightly around her wrist and jerked her to him.  She gasped, his mouth hovering over her ear.  “I could _end_ you,” he wrenched her closer, “right here and now.  A flick of my wrist.  A twist of my blade.  Walk away.  Do you understand?”

“Then do it,” she snarled, drawing back, glowering cold blue eyes.  “What’s stopping you?”

Ozai smirked through a viperish scowl, his eyes burning with impossible fury.

“You are, my dear,” he sneered.  “Your lust hasn’t rendered you so forgetful, has it?  I still need you.”  Tossing her hand away, he growled through clenched teeth.  “Count yourself lucky for that, _waterbender_.”

Her moniker dripped off his tongue like hot venom.  He saw the pain cut across her face.  The confusion and hurt and anger.  For a fleeting moment, guilt gnawed at his gut.  He stamped it out, told himself he didn’t care.  And he didn’t.  He couldn’t.

Hours passed.  The frigid wind swept over him, his fury.  It hissed and sputtered against the firestorm inside until he could feel the flames slowly dying away.  Extinguished.  From the ashes, he felt the guilt stir and rise to life again, stronger.  This time it would not be vanquished.  It grew, irrepressible, snaking through him like a weed and budding into a new feeling.  One that was almost so foreign to him, he struggled at first to fit it into a word.

Regret. 

For the first time in as long as he could remember – maybe it was the first time – he felt genuinely sorry.  Ashamed of his own harsh words, his rash actions.  The look on her face.  He had cut her deeply.  That feeling – _regret_ – sawed at his heart and he felt raw, cold.  But he could not bring himself to apologize.  Not when the ending was already in the stars.  It was wasted effort.  It would only give her hope.

They lied there in their too-far-apart sleeping bags.  The unnatural quiet of the mountains rang in his ears, deafening.  Katara kept her back to him, cold and distant, saying more than words ever could.  She never turned to face him again.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Aang struggled against his bonds, secured tightly to Appa’s saddle.  Sleep eluded him as he glowered up at the cloud-blackened sky.  He writhed, teeth clenched, awake with the searing disgust of the sleeping bodies on the ground, those he once called friends.  Hatred’s poison washed over him, eyes rolling to white, like a drug.  It coursed through his veins, eroding him bit by bit, peppering his heart with black voids.  He savored the thrill of it.  Yet above all the noise and screams of loathing in his head, there was one word that kept undulating at the very top.

Revenge.

If he was certain of one thing, it was this.  He would have it.  Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow.  But it was coming.  His upper lip curled as he imaged all the delicious ways he might exact his vengeance.

Another voice, not his own, whispered into his soul.

**_Patience_ ** **.**

Jaaku.  Aang took a deep breath and exhaled the air from his lungs.  Closing his eyes, he began to meditate, allowing the essence of the spirit to fill his mind, his heart, his soul.  Jaaku was on his side.  He understood him, his plight.  He would not lead him astray.

_I’ve been patient.  They have me chained like a rabid dog.  How much longer?_

The reply came, an indomitable whisper.

**_Soon_ ** **.**

His mouth pressed into a frown, but he relaxed his face.  Aang breathed deep through his nose and exhaled slowly.  Soon.  Soon, they would meet Ozai.  They would untie him then, hoping for his help.  It would be their own death stroke.  A corner of his mouth twitched upward.   He would make them cry for mercy that would never come.  He would make them pay.

Every last one.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The edge of the sky was beginning to leak the promise of dawn when Katara stirred, her heavy eyes still blurred with sleep.  Blinking through the haze, she looked around.  Was it a voice that had woken her?

Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the faint light of the fading moon.  She stole a glance at Ozai.  He was still sleeping.  Maybe she had imagined it.  Their last words flooded back to her, twisting her face as warm tears stung her eyes.  The lump in her throat burned and she forced them back.  _Bastard_.

Tearing her eyes away from him, her vision caught on something and she had to squint to be sure.  She gulped a serrated breath, stomach turned to stone.  Footprints upon footprints circled their campsite, deep tracks in the snow winding through the woods, across the clearing, right to the tree by which they were settled and then snaking back again.  The snow that was falling had hardly begun to kiss the sunken imprints.  It dawned on her with a muted gasp.  They were fresh.

Terror dragged her to her feet and she jerked around.  Everything was still, no life in sight.  The gnarled tree above them cast a soft indigo shadow against the snow.  A part of it stirred and she blinked.  Was it moving?  She spun around and looked up.  A single heavy branch above her sleeping bag had begun to sway, gleaming with a thin layer of powdery snow.  The rest of the great tree stood frozen, almost lifeless, in the ghostly moonlight.  Maybe just the wind, she chanted to herself.  Just the wind.

A black shape wavered next to a tree from the corner of her eye and Katara yelped, spinning around.  There was nothing.  Just the tree, flanked by a large boulder.  Was she finally going crazy?

And then she heard it, the voice on the wind that had beckoned her from sleep.  Or not so much a voice as a hiss, foul with evil, murmuring words she did not recognize.  She spun full around, gasping breaths.  Clutching shaking arms tightly around herself, she backed toward Ozai.

“Wake up,” she dared in a jagged whisper.  Katara risked a glance down at him.  “Ozai.  Wake u–”

A hell-blackened scream rose from the hiss, giving way to a gargling, scraping, sandpapered growl.  Ozai jerked awake beside her, fear bulging in his eyes.

“What was that?”

Katara’s heart hammered in her ears as her eyes darted across the landscape.  She shot a glance behind her and felt the air lurch from her lungs.  Her mouth hung open, a shaking hand reaching out to grip Ozai’s arm.  His head turned to follow her terror and he tensed, took a step back.

“What in Agni’s black hell…?”

A dark figure stood amongst the trees, black against the snow.  Hawk-like fingers clawed at the air, its head twitching toward the sky in another blood-curdling shriek as it started toward them with purpose.  Its whole body jerked erratically as it moved and Katara gasped as the realization sunk in.

“It’s that creature,” she breathed.  “Ozai!  It found us!”

It moved quickly, faster than Ozai and Katara could back away.  Its head and shoulders wrenched fitfully, its limbs convulsing.  In the paling light, the charred, leathery skin shone dull, wrinkled and black from what should have been a fatal burn.  The hooded cloak it wore was ancient, tattered and torn to shreds.  And she cursed herself for not realizing sooner.  It was already dead.

Katara’s heel backed into a buried boulder and sent her tumbling back into the snow.  She struggled to get to her feet and reached for Ozai’s outstretched hand but the creature was too fast.  A searing pain tore into her leg and she screamed.  Clawed hands dripped with blood over a deep gash in her shredded clothes.  She kicked the thing away as Ozai yanked her to her feet.  The snow beneath her dotted red, but she was numb to the pain, the adrenaline pumping through her like liquid fire.

The creature rose to its feet slowly, threateningly.  A jagged-toothed smile stretched to its stark white eyes, blood oozing from its sockets, its cavernous mouth.   It gnashed its teeth as its face reached toward the sky, revealing a sickening gash along its neck.  Ragged, wiry tendons jabbed about with a turn of its neck.  And then it lurched forward with an ear-splitting shriek.  Its glassy white eyes flashed, reeling toward them with sporadic, giant steps.

Ozai drew his blade and slashed, missed.  A sinewy, clawed arm sliced through the air, sending the dagger end over end into the snow.  Bending the snow at her feet, Katara hurled spears of ice just before it lunged in attack, impaling it with a stomach-turning thud.  The creature staggered backward, head slumped over and Katara breathed a quick gasp of victory.  But a pebbly growl rattled as its eyes rose to hers, the spears melting to water. 

Ozai and Katara leapt backward as it sprung forward again.  Claws made contact with Ozai’s arm, shredding layers of fabric and slicing through skin.  Ozai grunted in pain, clutching his arm to slow the bleeding.  Katara shot ice daggers, water whips, anything she could think of at the monster, narrowly dodging its lethal grasp.  It hardly slowed it down.  The two of them were bruised and bloody and leaking energy in the snow.  They would not win this battle, she knew.  It was over.  All she could do was go down fighting.

With her last drops of energy, Katara brought every crystal of snow around them to her command.  It swirled and churned in the wind as she transformed it to a globe of water around them.  A deep breath and she blasted it toward the creature, freezing it on contact.  The ice creaked and groaned as it set into place but she could see droplets melting down the sides as the entity tried to break free.  With her hands splayed out, Katara drove every last scrap of power she had into the ice as she edged her way toward the entity.  She closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the bright mountain air, allowing it to wash through her, cleanse her of darkness, concentrating on the peace that rose up in its place.  And then with a great cry, she shot her arms forward, feeling the tranquility course into the ice from her fingertips.  The wall of ice around the creature began to glow blue, brighter and brighter, until it burned Katara’s eyes to look at it.  The power of it grew and grew until her shaking arms threatened to give out.  Higher, higher and until she felt it peak.  

There was a momentary lull, a strange stillness, and then a great burst of blue light shot into the sky, illuminating the mountains with the glow of a thousand moons.  The creature’s expression twisted in agony before melting into something new, and Katara could name it instantly.  Peace.  The edges of its mouth turned up as its face lifted skyward.  With a soft moan, it slowly began to disintegrate until nothing was left to prove its existence, finally disappearing with a weightless sigh.

Katara and Ozai stared at the place it had stood, chests heaving in shock.  She was not sure how long they had been standing there when he spoke, a wind-burned whisper.

“What did you do to it?”

“I healed it.  In a way,” she spoke softly, eyes glued to the wraithlike impression in the snow.  “Purified it.  I emptied it of its darkness so it could finally rest in peace.”

She could feel his surprise beside her.

“How did you know it would work?”

“I didn’t,” she shrugged.  “But I figured we were about to die.  I thought it was worth a shot.”

He mumbled a sound of agreement before plodding back to their tree.  “Come on,” he said, packing up his gear.  “It shouldn’t be much further now.  Let’s get out of here while we still can.”

Backpacks slung over shoulders, they began the last of their trek down the mountain.  He kept the distance between them, a gulf he would not cross.  His eyes never met hers again.


	28. Chapter 28

A brilliant blue light shot into the sky from somewhere in the distance, illuminating the mountains and glistening off the snow, a curtain of sapphire in the morning fog.  Zuko’s hands went limp on his bag as he prepared to set out.  His eyes shot between the rest of his friends.  They shared the same knowing gaze. 

Katara. 

It had to be.  Jamming into their bags whatever was left, they tore through the snow and ice in the direction of the light.  Zuko’s legs were on fire, burning as they fought through the thick snow drifts.  Cold air cut in and out of his dry, aching lungs.  But none of that mattered.  He willed his body forward, faster, with everything he had.

They ran, hour after hour, as daylight dissolved the shadows and still there was nothing to show for their pursuit except depleted bodies and sunken hearts.  Finally breath abandoned his lungs and Zuko bowled over, clutching a knot in his side.  He gasped for air and grudgingly slowed to a halt, looking around.  He was so sure they had gone in the right direction.  But if that were true, surely they would have seen some sign of their trail.

As though fate itself guided his eyes, a fleeting glance over his shoulder was drawn to a tell-tale sign of a disturbance in the snow.  A violent one from the looks of it.  Deep trenches wove through the snow in a chaotic fashion, spattered with red.  One large area in particular had been cleared of snow, revealing flattened ferns peaking out of the stony earth.  She had fought hard.  His throat tightened.  Did she make it out alive?  Closer inspection revealed two sets of footprints winding away from the scene.

“They were here,” he pointed toward the tangle of chaos in the snow.  “Looks like they’re headed down the mountain.”

“Oh, thank the spirits,” Suki sighed.  “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Save your thanks until we put the mountain to our backs.  We have a ways to go yet.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Ozai jammed a foot past feeling into a crack, praying it would hold him.  Much longer and his fingers would be too numb to grip the icy rock, much less contain the strength to fight the bitter crosswinds.  The faint ray of hope at annihilating that demon had been short lived.  Adding insult to injury, the last leg of their descent proved unequivocally the most grueling, punishing.  Damn near hopeless.  It was an almost vertical decline for as far as he could see with very few places to anchor himself.  Throwing in the stony terrain slick with ice and snow, and he could smell death waiting for them, hear the mountain’s sinister cackle on the wind.

Beside him, Katara cried out as her foot slipped, clawing at the mountain as loose rocks gave out beneath her.  Ozai scarcely managed to grab her wrist before she fell out of reach, almost losing hold himself.  Finding a small crevice, she latched on, knuckles white, and dragged in air.  Her eyes rose to his and he could see the fear.  The despair.  He understood.  It threatened to break him too.  His eyes fell from hers and happened to land on a generous ledge jutting from the cliff less than a hundred feet below.  He nudged Katara and directed her gaze. 

“If we reach that landing,” he shouted over the wind, “we can rest for a little while.  Get some food in our stomachs.  Regain our strength.”

Katara took a gulp of air and nodded, eyes squeezed shut.

Steeling himself to continue their climb down, he stopped at a strange sensation in the rock beneath his hands.  He almost thought he had imagined it, the faint vibrating, but Katara’s face told him she felt it too.  The vibrating rose quickly to rumbling.  Ozai’s stomach clenched.  He looked up to see thick cloud of white swallowing the trees high up the mountain, careening toward them.  From his awe-slackened mouth, he couldn’t form the word that knit itself in his mind.  Avalanche.  

He tore his eyes away and locked onto Katara.  All he could manage was one word. 

“Go!”

Ice and rock slashed at his body as he half-slid, half-climbed down the mountain, struggling to maintain his grip.  The rumbling wall of snow barreled down the mountain after them, uprooting centuries-old trees with the ease of a broom sweeping leaves off a stoop.  Ozai’s cloak caught on a dagger of stone, jarring him to a halt.  He spun around to yank it free, daring a glance up at the hissing, cracking mass of snow.  It was moving so fast.  His cloak jerked loose with a sharp rip.

The biting tang of cedar and pine penetrated the air as huge chunks of snow rained down, pummeling their bodies.  One struck Ozai’s shoulder and threw him off balance.  He clawed for handholds, the cruel fingers of exposed roots gouging him as he plummeted down, several feet, until his hands caught on a toothy outcropping.  His palms sliced against the jagged edge, but he hardly noticed the pain.  Trees splintered above as the avalanche ripped down the mountain.  There was no escaping it.  Their only hope was whatever shelter they might find under that ledge.

Ozai glanced down.  It was almost within reach now.  Below him, Katara shielded her head as a large mass of snow came reeling down, and then a shower of small rocks.  Against the ragged skin of his hands, he thrust himself down the mountain.  A chunk of falling ice sliced through his pants and into the skin of his leg.  Ozai howled through clenched teeth but didn’t stop.  He propelled himself lower, lower, until finally his feet touched down on a flat sheet of rock. 

Just as Katara lowered herself down, the mountain began to quake harder, violently.  Ozai snatched her to him and dragged her beneath the lip of the ledge.  Too quickly, his back rammed into a cold fist of stone and he blinked, looked behind him.  It wasn’t deep enough.  There wasn’t enough cover.  The avalanche would swallow them like a maelstrom and sunder them apart.  His wide eyes darkened as death loomed, thick and heavy in the air.  

And then the world was erased, a flash of blueish white and then a wall of dark indigo as snow barreled down in a torrent past their shelter.  Heavy white thundered in and he felt the weight of it against their bodies, thrashing him back against the rock, smothering.  Katara turned into him with a scream and he wrapped his arms around her, steeling himself for their tomb of ice.  But the strangled air grew thinner and the thundering more muted.  Ozai cracked open his eyes and his mouth went slack. 

Katara still clung to him, her face burrowed in his chest, but she held her arm extended, hand splayed wide, shaking with fear and duress.  He watched as the violent surge of snow bent to her will like potter’s clay, fanning out in a river of white past their ledge.  Snow, ice, and rock roared over them and he could feel her body trembling to contain it.  She groaned into his chest, from fear or pain he couldn’t tell.

“Katara…!” he bellowed over the uproar.

Her head rose at his voice.  Risking a glance over her shoulder, she gasped at the display of her power.  Had she not thought herself capable?  She turned around slowly, bringing her other arm up for better control.  The avalanche was slowing now.  As the last of it cascaded down, Katara took a deep breath and shot her arms out, swooping them down in a graceful arc.  And then they went slack and she stumbled back, falling to the cold stone floor.  She gasped for breath on hands and knees as Ozai stepped to the edge of their overhang and looked down.  The once jagged mountain was smoothed by a thick white blanket.  He drew a breath as he realized what she had done.

“You leveled a path down the mountain,” he murmured, almost to himself.  “A path… out of that damn avalanche.”  A choke of laughter escaped him.  “We actually have a chance now.  We’re going to make it.”

Katara crawled to her feet and stood beside him.  “Not bad for a simple Water Tribe peasant, you mean?”  She crossed her arms.

A scowl tightened his face and he bristled.  “Perhaps a _peasant_ should learn to take a compliment when it’s offered.”

“Ugh, forget it,” she spat, rolling her eyes away.  “Let’s just get going before anything else happens.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The rest of the trek down was a leisurely stroll in contrast to their journey thus far.  Leisurely, but silent.  Katara never so much as cast him a sideways glance.  There was an invisible wall between them that neither dared cross.  He could have cut the tension with a knife.  But the gulf of silence and not having to fight for his life gave Ozai ample time to dissect the thoughts still bobbing beneath his subconscious.  The image of Katara’s face, bleary-eyed and pained at his caustic words, kept floating like a bubble to the top, forcing him to relive it over and over.  Try as he might, he could not scrub the scene from his memory. 

Or the imprint she had left on his heart.

His mind kept spinning webs of question marks and regrets.  How could he have let this happen?  To be so weak as to let a meager Water Tribe girl worm her way into his affections.  She had rusted his vision for everything he had ever wanted and now he stood in the ashes of his once-great plan, at the crossroads of decision.  For once in his life, his path was not clear cut.  He had to make a choice.

To forfeit all he had worked so hard for – the pain, the sweat, the agony – everything that had brought him this close to victory… it was simply unthinkable.  He had come too far and he was much too strong a man to give it all up for a pair of bewitching blue eyes.

That left him with one choice, he knew.  The one he had been fighting for some time now.  Ozai set his jaw at the thought.

But would giving up Katara be any easier?

Katara’s foot fell through a hollow plot of snow.  She stumbled down, hands and knees sinking inches into the white powder.  On instinct, Ozai reached out for her arm to help her up and was promptly swatted away.  Struggling to her feet, Katara brushed the snow from her mittens and flashed him a thunderous glance, turning heel and trudging on.  The anger pulsed hot through his veins, just once, before a deep breath of frigid air iced it out.  If anyone had a reason to be angry, it was her.  But spirits, she wielded a passion that put some firebenders he had known to shame.  It was her passion that drove him mad.

_Would giving up Katara be any easier?_

She was a drug.  Intoxicating.  And he was addicted.  Even if he wanted to give her up, he wasn’t sure that he could.  He might writhe and fight against her hold over him, but he would never stop wanting more. 

And it hit him like a physical blow – no matter his decision, he would lose in the end.

Like a flame in the night, a thought flickered in the corner of his mind and he paused.  Why should he have to choose?  The flame burned brighter as he nursed the idea.  He was the Phoenix King.  Or, he would be once again.  And this time, with all the power in the universe at his control.  Who was to say he couldn’t have both?  Steal the Avatar’s power _and_ keep his woman.  Beautiful poetic justice.  Use Katara as bait and then pull back – hook, line, and sinker.  She had said herself that she wanted to stay with him.  Why not let her have her wish?

The afternoon sun was mellowing in the west and trickling down through the skeletal limbs above.  It danced off the blanket of white at their feet and Ozai noticed the delicate powder melting into slushy, wet snow.  The trees were thinning, the frosty mountain air flowing milder in his lungs, and as he looked beyond the sea of pine and birch he saw it.  The seam of earth where mountain met sea level.  Katara must have seen it too for he heard the whisper of a gasp at his side as she picked up the pace.

Moments later, they burst thought the mouth of the emaciated forest and out into the blinding sun.  His feet kissed the earth, flat and even, and he could have screamed for joy.  Beside him, Katara exhaled a long breath and turned her face to the sky.  A trace of a smile softened her face.

“We made it,” she whispered, eyes closed. 

Ozai let the weight of it all sink in, scenes of what could have been burning through his mind.  “We were lucky,” he said at length.

Katara shook her head, eyes closed tightly as though in pain.  “I really thought–”  Her voice cracked with the weight of tears.  She stopped and turned to face him finally.

“I know.”  Ozai just barely stepped toward her, his hand almost on her arm.  She pulled back, eyebrows drawn low over shimmering blue.  The smile was gone. 

Ozai stiffened, frowned.  “This way,” he signaled curtly.  She fell into silent step behind him.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The snow was thinning, soaking the ground beneath as tufts of brown, wilted grass peeked through.  Soon a muddy path emerged, rutted and furrowed by a host of footprints come before.  This was a path oft-traveled, probably leading straight into a nearby town.  Katara stole a glance at Ozai.  The tension in his jaw told her he knew it too.  Cobblestones emerged beneath her feet and a sign post to her right pointed toward civilization.  A village named Sukoshi.

Ozai couldn’t possible mean to cross straight through a town.  What was he doing?  She didn’t want to break the silence, but she had to ask.  “Are you sure you’re going the right way?”

He didn’t turn around.  “The village must be relatively new.  It wasn’t on the map.”  Ozai stepped over part of a fallen tree.  He didn’t turn to help her over it.  “But, yes, it looks like we’ll have to pass through the edge of the town to get where we’re going.  It’ll be dark soon.  With any luck, we’ll slip past unnoticed.”

They walked for miles more, walked until the sun burned red on the edge of the sky.  All that was left of the snow were slushy patches of white on the ground, dotted brown with mud.   Torches began cropping up alongside the path.  They were close.  Katara could see what looked like a guard post up ahead but there seemed little if any movement around it.  She supposed backing up to the Bashou Mountains made for a pretty good defense system.  The village wouldn’t be expecting visitors this far in the middle of nowhere.  Which meant they were likely to stand out.

A black spot on the path up ahead caught her eye.  Katara looked up and her throat closed around a lump.  An armored Earth Kingdom guard was marching toward them.  He must not have seen them yet for he spun on his heel and retraced his steps, patrolling the outskirts of the town.  Her eyes slid instinctively to Ozai.

“What are we gonna do?”

He didn’t turn to her.  A muscle twitched in his jaw as his gaze burned straight ahead.  She knew that look and it scared her.

The figure up ahead turned again, marching toward them.  But this time, she could see his posture stiffen, the waver in his step.  He had spotted them.

“Ho there, citizens!” he called out boldly.  “Halt!  Your names and order of business, please.” 

Ozai didn’t halt.  He didn’t even slow down.  He only stalked toward the officer with that powerfully daunting stride of his.

“Ozai…”  She couldn’t control the quivering in her voice.

The guard seemed startled by Ozai’s fearless display of defiance.  He took an apprehensive step back, muscles tightening.

“I said _halt_!” he bellowed.  “No one is to enter Sukoshi without proper authorization.”

Ozai was closing the gap between them quickly and the guard assumed a fighting stance.

“This is your last warning, citizen!  I have orders from the Earth King to strike down any form of dissent to that decree by any means necessary.   Now, back down!”

“Ozai, please.”  Katara grabbed at his cloak, eyes pleading with him as she tried to keep up.  “Don’t do this.”

Ozai only charged ahead.  The guard puffed up and dug a foot deep into the ground, bending the earth and sending it crashing toward him.  Ozai must have expected it because he hurdled the attack with ease, landing on his feet and drawing his dagger in one swift motion.  His speed caught the officer off guard and before he could attack again, Ozai was at the man’s throat.  The officer nimbly ducked from his grasp and pulled his own weapon, slashing at him just as Ozai leaped out of reach.  With a kick, the guard sent a boulder straight into Ozai’s chest.  He fell back onto the ground, choking at the sudden loss of air.

The man was running straight for him, weapon held high, as Ozai struggled to his feet.  The guard’s dagger rose for the death stroke and Ozai brought his fist up between the man’s legs, doubling him over in agony.  Rolling away, he bounded to his feet and swung his blade with all his strength, cutting through the armor that protected the guard’s neck.

With a gurgling thud, the headless body sagged forward into the sopping earth.  Katara’s knees went weak and she dropped to the ground.  A hand clutched her chest, mouth hung open, fighting to breathe.

Ozai wiped his blade clean on the dead man’s armor and replaced it in his boot.  Stalking back to Katara, he only jerked his hand toward her to follow him, blowing past her.

“Come on.  There’ll be more of them soon.”

Tears rimmed her eyes and she fought back the vomit, stumbling as she rose to her feet.  An ocean of words thrashed in her head but couldn’t form past her tightened throat.  It was hard to admit, but she had become so comfortable with Ozai that she had almost forgotten how peerlessly dangerous the man was.   She thanked the spirits for the reminder now.

They came to a small creek that hugged an old neglected house at the southern border of the village.  It appeared to be abandoned.  They jumped across, from rock to rock, and Katara could see the modest makings of a town just ahead.  Ozai ducked behind the house and nodded at their new route, a sharp turn left through the corner of the village.  Besides the occasional smudge of a guard strolling the streets in the distance, the town was quiet.  Katara and Ozai cut through and out with ease.  Before long they found themselves in a wooded area at the knoll of a deep gully.

Ozai pointed down into the gorge.  “Just a short climb down, and we’re there.”

It wasn’t a short climb.  At least it didn’t feel that way.  Jagged rock tore into her hands, frayed her cloak.  She clung on for dear life, the flashbacks of that mountain all too fresh in her mind.  When Ozai signaled her to stop and edged his way to a landing, she sighed in relief.  They were here.  She let him help her onto the ledge and then quickly reclaimed her hand.  A vaguely familiar face came out of a darkened cave burrowed deep in the side of the cliff.  It took her a moment to remember.  Jiao.

“My lord!” he said, clasping Ozai’s hand in both of his and bowing deeply.  “I was beginning to fear the worst.  It is indeed a great pleasure to see you again.”  Jiao scanned them from head to toe and then blinked, eyebrows raised.  “You look terrible.”  Dread stitched his face as he realized what he’d said.  His mouth worked, looking for the words.  “Forgive me, Sire, I didn’t–”

“Yes,” Ozai cut him off.  “The Bashou Mountains aren’t exactly known for their hospitality.”

Jiao’s mouth went slack.  “You passed through the mountains?  How on earth did you survive?”

“We nearly didn’t,” Ozai snapped.  “But it doesn’t matter, we’re here now.”

“Right.  Of course.”  Jiao straightened and his eyes slid to Katara momentarily.  “I trust the prisoner didn’t give you too much trouble after we parted.”

The prisoner?  Katara glared at him.  It had been so long since she’d thought of it that way.  How could she have forgotten?  Stupid.  Of course that’s all she was to him.

Ozai flinched at the word, just enough for her to take notice.  “Um,” his eyes flicked down briefly and he cleared his throat.  “No.”  His gaze brushed her from the corner of his eye before shifting back to Jiao.  “No, I managed.”

Jiao wrinkled an eyebrow.  The tension was thick.  She could see that he felt it.  “That’s… good to hear.”  His eyes darted between them as though searching for something.  “Okay, well.  Uh, let me show you around.”  He extended his arm for Ozai and cast her a strange glance before following him in.

Katara was actually surprised at the condition of the cave inside.  The hollows and corridors that branched off from the main foyer served as sleeping quarters and storerooms.  There was a large cooking spit to the left around which hung a variety of dried herbs, root vegetables, and hawk breast.  To the right, a flat sheet of rock was being used as a planning center, plastered with a large map and jabbed with various marker flags.  A few other men stood huddled over it, hands stroking chins in what appeared to be a serious conversation.

“So, where are the recruits?” Ozai asked in a way that suggested he already knew the answer.

Jiao rubbed the back of his neck and dodged his master’s gaze.  “Oh yes… Well….”  The man flashed a sheepish smile.  “These, um, are the recruits.”

Ozai looked over at the men and then back at Jiao, blinking hard.  “These three men are your recruits?” he spat.  “You must be joking.”

Jiao twiddled his hands together and took a step back.  “I’m sorry, my lord.  I tried to convince the others to stay.  They were so sure you had met your end and were never coming back so they returned to their families.”

Ozai pinched his eyes shut and growled a sigh.  “And exactly how is this supposed to help me?”

“I know it’s not what we had planned.  We won’t have the manpower to create the distractions we need and divert the Earth Kingdom’s attention from you.  But there is something that I think you’ll find more than makes up for it.”

“Go on.”

“The men and I have done a lot of digging in your absence and we think we’ve discovered the key to your journey’s end.  And it’s not what we thought.  May I see your map, sir?”

Ozai reached into his cloak and handed him the faded sheet of paper.  Jiao unfolded it and traced his finger along the dotted line of their course. 

“The X on your map is not your destination.  Not exactly.  It indicates an area on the northern coast of the Earth Kingdom, at the foot of the mountains not far from here but that’s just a front.  The real destination is an island directly northeast of there known as Maho Mori.  And get this.  Most people don’t believe it really exists.  Apparently it’s only visible on the night of the blood moon.”

Ozai thought for a moment and the corner of his mouth twitched up.  “The next one is three days from now.”

“Exactly.”

A smile stretched broad across his face that made her stomach quiver.  “Perfect.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Torches flickered upon posts along the cobblestone road as the last breath of dusk yawned violet across the sky.  Up ahead, the soft glow of candlelit windows winked behind the closed gate of a tiny town.  Four guards stood watch at the entrance, shoulders straightening at their approach. 

“Halt!  Turn back, citizens.  This town’s on lockdown.  No one is permitted to enter or leave without permission.”

From somewhere nearby, a chorus of powerful voices rang into the twilight.  They sounded anxious, on edge.  One voice barked orders above the others.  Something was wrong.

Zuko stopped a few paces from the guards and removed his hood, watching as their faces went slack with recognition.

“Fire Lord Zuko!” one exclaimed.  He gave a quick bow.  “Forgive me, sire.  I didn’t recognize you.”

“At ease, soldier,” Zuko nodded.  “What’s going on here?”

The guard relaxed and scanned the other faces, lingering on the writhing boy in the bison’s saddle.  He raised a questioning brow at Zuko.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing toward the obviously livid boy tied down in tethers.

“Never mind him,” Zuko said casually.  He hoped it was dark enough to hide Aang’s tattoos.  That was a situation he did not want to try to explain.  “What’s going on here?”

“One of our guards was murdered at the border of town,” the guard replied, shifting on his feet.  “Just a few hours ago, his head sliced clean off.  We have patrols raking the surrounding areas but no luck in catching the perpetrator yet.”

A knot tightened in Zuko’s stomach.  “Did anyone catch a glimpse of the killer?”

“No, sir.  We are sure he never passed through the village.  Guards regularly patrol the streets and alleys, and it’s a very small town, you know?  We’d have noticed someone who didn’t belong.”

Zuko pinched his eyes shut and groaned.  Once again his father had been at the tip of his fingers with nothing to show for it now.  Once again, he had failed Katara.  He cursed under his breath.

“Even with all these blockades and lockdowns, the guy still managed to slink right by us.”  He paused, lowered his voice.  “It was Ozai, wasn’t it?”

Zuko gave a grim nod.  “We have strong reason to believe so, yes.”

The guard thought for a moment.  “It’s possible he slipped along the border of town and into the valley just north of here.  That’d be the likeliest place I can imagine a fugitive would go for a quick escape.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.  It had only been a few hours the guard said.  Maybe Ozai hadn’t made it too far.

“Thank you,” Zuko nodded.  “We’ll check it out and touch base later tonight.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara looked between Jiao and Ozai, wishing to Yue that she could read the plan buried in their knowing exchange.  She crossed an arm over her stomach.

“You must be tired,” Jiao offered, changing the subject.  “Allow me to show you to your sleeping quarters.”

He led them down the elongated foyer and turned right at a fork in the passage.  Jiao came to a stop between two small caverns set in opposing walls.  Each was sectioned off from the main passage by a makeshift curtain at their entrance.

“I hope you’ll find these accommodations comfortable in light of the setting.  Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything, my lord.”

Ozai nodded and Jiao took his leave with a bow.  Katara watched him disappear around the bend and her eyes found their way Ozai’s.  She scowled, realizing he was already looking at her.  Without a word, she turned her back and drew the curtain, marching into her chamber.

Katara dropped her satchel and looked around.  The hollow was pleasantly lit with candle sconces.  The flickering light cast a warm glow, shadows dancing in the cracks of the floor.  A flat bed of rock was etched into the far wall for sleeping.  It was probably the most comfortable place she’d stayed in months.

With Ozai out of sight, Katara breathed a deep sigh and rested back against the cold wall of the cave.  She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, running her hands along the textured surface.  She was tired.  Too tired to think about her heart.  Too tired to care about the pain there, the ache.   Pushing herself from the wall, she picked up her satchel and walked over to the stone cot, pulling out her sleeping bag.  As she began to unroll it, a deep voice behind her cleared its throat.

She looked over her shoulder to see Ozai standing at the entrance, holding back the curtain with one hand.  Her face tightened in a frown and she turned back, unfurling her sleeping bag.

“What do you want?”

He paused a beat before responding.  “Not going to invite me in?”

“And sully your greatness with the likes of a lowly peasant?”  She scoffed, a sharp laugh.  “Spare yourself of the disgrace and go away.”

Another beat of silence passed.  Maybe he had taken her advice and left her alone.  But when she turned to be sure, he was standing just inside the entrance, the curtain hanging closed behind him.

“You’re still here,” she spat. 

“I’ve had some time to think,” he said, ignoring the hint in her tone.  “There’s something I need to say.”

Katara flashed him a hard smile.  “Well, I’m not in the mood for small talk today.”  She let the smile burn off into a scowl.  “Save it for your next prisoner, Ozai.”  She spat out the title Jiao had so kindly reminded her of and turned back to her task.  In the heavy silence, purposeful footsteps cut across the hollow toward her.  Katara didn’t even have time to turn before a strong hand gripped her arm, spinning her sharply into Ozai’s chest.

“Dammit, Katara, just shut up and listen.  I was wrong.”  Katara blinked in surprise.  Was he… apologizing?  He smoothed his brow, his fiery eyes dancing across her face.  “I was wrong, okay,” he continued, his voice softer.  “About this.  About us.  You were right.  It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Confusion clouded her head.  How had things changed so suddenly?  It had to be some kind of trap.  Katara took a step back and felt the cold nip of the cavern wall.  He followed her, pinning her there.

“Why now?” she managed a whisper.  “How can I believe you after everything you said?”

“Because above all else, I’m a selfish man.  Far too selfish to let you go when every part of me wants you for myself.”

His forearms rested against the wall now and brought him closer.  His chest pressed into hers.  “I want you with me, Katara,” he breathed in a gravelly voice.  She tried to keep her gaze from slipping to his lips, painfully aware of how they hovered just out of reach of hers.

“Then tell me that’s really what you want.”  Katara’s voice strained through the lump in her throat.  “Tell me and make me believe you.”

His amber eyes smoldered, burning a blush on her cheeks, as his face inched toward hers.  His gaze locked onto her lips and she felt his breath, warm and sultry, on her mouth.  Her eyes fluttered closed against her will.  Ozai’s mouth just barely brushed against hers.  “Stay with me.  Always,” he whispered over her lips.  “That’s an order, girl.”  She heard the smile in his voice, felt the smirk on his lips as they pressed into hers, warm and firm. 

His powerful body trapped her against the wall and her stomach was spinning.  Without thinking she parted her lips to deepen the kiss.  Ozai’s tongue was hot and sent a little spark coursing through her.  Her desire rose swiftly, matching his, and their heavy breathing echoed shallow in the small cave.  Katara slid her hands up the hot skin of his neck, his pulse fluttering beneath her fingertips, and wound them through his raven hair.  Her fingernails scraped along his neck.  A husky groan pitched from deep in his throat and Ozai’s hand dropped to the small of her back, yanking her against him so tight she gasped. 

And then he kissed her dizzy.  She couldn’t stretch up high enough, couldn’t kiss him deep enough. His strong hand at her back inadvertently lifted her up and she coiled her legs tightly around his hips, closing every inch between them.  Feverishly, he broke away from her lips to trail kisses down the underside of her jaw.  “Katara,” he mouthed, his breath hot on her neck.  The bass of his voice shuddered against her throat and she moaned.  His lips crashed onto hers again.

“Pardon me, my lord,” came a voice from outside the hollow.  “Are you in there?”

Ozai broke the kiss just as Jiao parted the curtain.  With a start, Katara drew her legs back down to stand on her wobbly feet.

“There’s been a bit of a…”  The solemn look on his face melted to shock.  Katara was out of breath, trembling, stomach tight.  Her face felt hot, her lips swollen.  Ozai still had her half-pinned against the wall.  Jiao’s jaw unhinged.  His face flushed red as a ripe tomato and he blinked down at the ground.  “Uhh…” his shaking voice trailed off.

“What is it, Jiao?” Ozai growled.  The man recoiled at the warning in his tone.

“A– a thousand pardons, sire.  I didn’t, uh…”  He glanced sheepishly between her and Ozai, the embarrassment etched deep on his face.  “If you had told me you were, um…  I would have arranged for–”

Katara could see the tension in Ozai’s neck.  The impatience.  “I asked you a question,” he snapped.

“Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.  It’s just…”  Jiao cleared his throat and straightened, recovering his mask of austerity.  “A huge bison was just spotted flying circles over the gorge.”


	29. Chapter 29

Katara struggled to breathe, trying to wrap her mind around what Jiao had just said.  A sky bison?

Ozai pushed himself from the wall and followed Jiao out the chamber.  She smoothed her hair and gulped a breath to regain her composure before trotting after them.  Katara snaked through the passageway and out into the main foyer to find Jiao and Ozai peering up at the sky from the shadows of the cavern.  They were speaking in low tones, something she couldn’t make out.  When she followed their line of sight, her stomach hitched and she had to blink twice to be sure.  A dark shadow wove across the night sky, its familiar form outlined in silver moonlight.  Appa…

Thoughts scrambled in her head.  Had Aang come for her after all?  A rush of heat burned somewhere deep in the corners of her heart, scorching her from the inside out.  After all this time…  Did he think he could just swoop gallantly to her rescue and expect that nothing had changed?  Expect to find the same girl from before?  Her brows drew low over hardened eyes.  Well, it didn’t matter now.  It was too late.  She had made her choice.

The bison swooped lower and Ozai jerked her out of view, hugging his arm around her.  She let herself melt into him, her hands resting against his chest.  A fleeting glance brushed her from the corner of Jiao’s eye.  They waited there, rigid and tense, in the shadows until Jiao finally gave the all clear.  Katara peeked up into the starry black canvas.  Appa was gone.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko circled Appa over the village and landed in front of the gate.  He signaled the others to stay put and climbed down, approaching the four guards he had spoken with earlier.  They stood at attention, eyebrows raised, the unspoken question on their faces.  Zuko gave a grim shake of his head.

“Nothing,” he said.  “The gully’s too deep and narrow, we couldn’t see a thing in the dark.  We’ll have to go back out at dawn.”  Zuko sighed deeply and ran a tense hand through his hair.  “Any chance you can accommodate six travelers and a huge bison overnight?”

A smile broke onto the guard’s face.  “Of course, Fire Lord.  Sukoshi would be more than honored.  You and your companions are welcome for as long as you choose to remain.”

“Thank you,” he managed a smile.

“We’ll set you up in the Governor’s Hall.  It’s the best we have to offer.”

The heap of a sleeping bag writhed and grunted in Appa’s saddle.  Zuko tensed and saw the guards’ eyes search for the source.  It wasn’t much in the way of cover, but it was all they could think of in order to hide Aang.  The guards couldn’t find out they had the avatar.  No one could.  He could only imagine what people would think if they saw the new Fire Lord with a hysterical avatar bound and gagged in his possession.

“What was that?” a guard asked.

“Uhh…”  Zuko’s mind scrambled for an explanation.

Sokka coughed and forced out a groan, clutching his hands over his stomach and rolling to his back.  Zuko didn’t miss a beat.

“Our friend’s not feeling too well,” he offered and wrinkled his nose.  “Bad sea prunes.”  He watched the crease of the guards’ eyebrows as Sokka rolled back and forth, groaning like a hogmonkey in heat.  Zuko’s jaw set, praying to Agni that they didn’t see through it.  He cursed the warrior for being such a ham.

“You know,” Zuko cut in quickly, “I think we’d prefer to stay in the stables.  Our presence might send a panic through the village and cause you more trouble.  Thank you for your offer nonetheless.”

The guard seemed surprised at Zuko’s request, but his shoulders relaxed in assent.  “Very well, sire.  As you wish.”

Zuko let out a small breath and turned his eyes to heaven in a silent prayer.  The guard nodded to his comrade, who turned and unlatched the heavy iron bolt.  The gate swung open with a loud groan.  Four more guards stood on the other side.

“The Fire Lord and his companions are to be our guests of honor,” the first guard instructed.  “Show them to the stables and see that they are comfortable.”  He turned back to Zuko before stepping aside.  “I hope your friend turns the corner soon.  Nasty stuff, that food poisoning.”

Sokka wailed.

“Thank you,” Zuko smiled through his teeth and shot a quick scowl over his shoulder.

A guard on the other side of the gate stepped forward.  “Right this way, my lord.  Welcome to Sukoshi.”  With a short bow, he led the way into the humble, torch-lit town.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Jiao stirred the pot of morning rice and added another log to the fire.  The flames licked higher and he rubbed his cold hands over the heat.  The cavern was quiet save for the soft snores of his comrades still asleep on the far side of the foyer.  Ozai and the girl hadn’t risen yet either.  A thought churned his stomach.  He only hoped they had taken separate rooms.  Grimacing, he quickly forced the thought away.

He glanced over his shoulder out the mouth of the cave.  The first breath of dawn lined the sky, streaks of pink and lilac.  Giving a last stir to the pot, Jiao rose and walked to the entrance.  The air there was brisk.  He gave a quick shiver and hugged his arms around himself, drinking in the fresh morning air.

Jiao wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there when the clunk of boots sounded softly behind him.  He turned to see Ozai approaching.  The men shared a brief nod as Ozai came to stand beside him.  Sunlight pooled at their feet, bathing the floor in golden light, as the sun began its ascent in the sky.  Moments passed in silence.  Finally, clearing his throat, Jiao spoke.

“I wonder, sir, if I might ask you for an advance on my retirement pay.”

Ozai shot him a brief glance.  “I thought we’d discussed this.  You’ll get it just as soon as I have what we came for.”

“Yes, sir, we did.  But… well, I received a messenger hawk last week.  The letter said my wife is on her deathbed.  She doesn’t have much time – the doctors say a month, maybe two.”  He huffed a sour chuckle.  “If we’re being optimistic.  I’d just like to be able to make her last days happy.  Maybe cross a few things off her bucket list.  I don’t have the means to do that now without…”  Jiao let his words trail off.

Ozai was silent for a moment.  “You have my condolences, Jiao.  But my answer stands.  You will have your retirement plus a bonus for your loyalty just as soon as we claim victory.”

His lips parted.  Hurt stitched his face.  How could he be so cold?  Had the man ever loved anyone in his life?  The thought evoked images of Ozai and that girl tangled against the wall.  A spark inside him burned but he carefully wiped away the scowl that crept upon his face.

“What is going on with you and that girl?” he asked in his most collected voice.

Ozai didn’t turn to him, but Jiao could see the downturn of his lips.  “Nothing that concerns you,” he spoke with finality.

“Forgive me, sire, but… you understand my confusion.”  He shook his head, his open mouth searching for the words.  “How– how could you let this happen?”

Ozai’s frown deepened, but he looked straight ahead, toward the other side of the gully still awash in mauve shadow.  After a moment, he turned and headed back inside the cavern.  A pang of anger shot through Jiao as he stalked after him.

“She’s just a girl.”  The words came more harshly than they should have as he trotted after him.  “You’re using her.  I just don’t think–”

Ozai spun around, anger etched in his face.  “You’re right, you don’t think,” he spat.  “Only a fool would ask such reckless questions of his superior.”  He stood towering over him, seething.  “You know nothing about it.”

Jiao frowned at the ground but didn’t back away.  “It just… doesn’t sit right,” he mumbled with a shake of his head.

“I really don’t care what does or doesn’t sit right with you,” he growled, inches from his face.  Ozai’s teeth clenched, setting his jaw tight.  “And I’d advise you to remember your place, Jiao… before I put you in it.”

Jiao pinched his mouth but didn’t step back.  His eyes flitted away briefly before darting back again, holding boldly to Ozai’s, challenging.  It was dangerous.  He didn’t care.

“Now,” Ozai snarled, straightening slowly, “if you’re through wasting my time–”

A rumbling groan from somewhere outside cut him off.  Jiao stepped away from the entrance and peered around the edge.  The avatar’s bison had come back, circling the ravine.  Jiao’s mind raced.  Why?  Had their hideout been compromised?  He heard Ozai curse beside him.

“I hope you and your idiots have some kind of a plan,” he hissed a whisper.   “If the avatar keeps hovering over the ravine like this, it won’t be long before he notices the gap in the cliff side.”

Jiao fought back the doubt and puffed up with all the confidence he could muster.  “We have it all covered.  See that down there?”  He pointed to a dark shape at the bottom of the gully where land broke to sea.  “There’s a ship waiting for you.  The hardest part will be the climb down to get there.  But it won’t take long once you set sail, and even shorter if you put your little waterbending _friend_ to work.”

He could hear the sharp breath and the snarl as Ozai opened his mouth to speak but a shadow fell briefly over the sun-veiled entrance.  A groan came again, louder, closer.

“That’s all great,” Ozai grumbled.  “But there’s still the better part of two days before the blood moon rises.  Until then, we’re holed up in this cave praying Agni’s mercy that the avatar passes us by.  And you’re telling me that’s your brilliant plan?”

Jiao shot him a sideways glance and fought back a retort.  It was true.  He hadn’t seen a reason to have a plan beyond simply having a means from here to the island.  He hadn’t thought it possible that the avatar might actually snuff out such a well hidden hideout before they were ready to meet him.  But he couldn’t let on that his plan really was as pathetic as Ozai made it sound.

 “No need to fret, my lord,” he said, voice firm with the certainty he wished he felt.  “Whatever happens, my men and I won’t fail you.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The moon had always called to her, as it did all waterbenders.  But tonight was different somehow.  Katara was restless.  She could feel her chi swirling, churning like a slow burn.  But there was something else too.  A darkness beneath the surface, almost too subtle to touch, just a drop in the vortex of her energy, but it was there.  And she shuddered against its vague familiarity.  Memories came crashing back of things she would rather forget.  Hana.  Bloodbending.  The dark elation she’d felt at another’s life force pulsing helplessly at her control.  It was that darkness she felt again now, inexplicably, and it scared her.

Katara surged up from her bed and out the curtained door.  It was no use trying to sleep.  The passage was almost dark, dimly lit with just an occasional candle sconce.  She listened to the heavy quiet for a moment and drew a deep breath.  To her right, the corridor wound back toward the large open foyer and then onward, housing more bedrooms and storage.  To her left, the passage snaked away into almost total darkness.  They must not have settled the cavern much past her and Ozai’s rooms.  The idea of uncharted cave piqued her curiosity.  It was probably safer to walk the other way, through more familiar territory, but she craved the solitude.  She needed to clear her mind.

The faint flickering light dwindled behind her as she crept down the corridor.  But it wasn’t long before Katara had to stop.  It was just too dark, she could barely see a thing.  And what she could see only looked like more of the same: cold, boring rock that tunneled on and on in the same boring way as far as she could see.  Her mouth drew down in disappointment and she was about to turn back when her foot sloshed in a cold, wet puddle.  The ripples just barely gleamed in the candlelight from where she’d come.  The sight of the water stirred in her an unrivaled hunger for her element.  She longed for the familiar push and pull of it.  She needed to feel it, control it.

Katara raised her hand in a graceful arc and watched a steam of it rise at her command and then plunk back down.  She repeated the move almost hypnotically, over and over.  This was peace, tranquility, perfection.  She breathed slowly, feeling her chi push and pull with the ebb and flow of the water.

She brought another stream of water up, swirling it in a graceful ribbon.  It split into two, twisting and spiraling around each other like two moon-doves, ascending, then swooping down, criss-crossing in flight, and finally rejoining as one.

The prickles on her neck told her she was being watched.  The water splashed back into the puddle as she turned to see Jiao standing behind her, hardly more than a silhouette in the muted candlelight at his back.  She couldn’t make out much of his face, but the silence of his stare made her uneasy.  Katara fidgeted and cleared her throat.

“Um, sorry, did I wake you?”

“I was already awake,” he muttered.  “Couldn’t sleep.”

Katara nodded stiffly, wrapping her arms around herself.  “Neither could I,” she said softly.  Not being able to see his expression made her nervous.  He just stood there, hands in his pockets, studying her.  She looked away before continuing.  “I can’t remember ever feeling the moon this strongly before.”

The soft thump of boots drew her eyes back.  Jiao walked toward her slowly, his posture relaxed.  “That’s because you never have.  The blood moon is rising.  Tomorrow it’ll glow red as deep as blood for which it’s named.”

Katara had never heard of such a thing.  Why hadn’t her people ever mentioned it?  Surely they would have known.  “Have you ever seen a blood moon?” she asked, not sure what else to say.

“No.”  His footsteps echoed quietly in the corridor.  “They occur only once every hundred years.  But I’ve heard stories that say you’ll never see anything like it.”  Jiao sauntered closer, the side of his face now illuminated in the half-light.  “The earth is bathed in red glory.  The moon’s pull on the earth is more powerful than ever before.  The tides rise higher, the waves thrash harder…”  He came to stop before her, his irises flickering with the light.  “Waterbenders grow stronger.”

A lump was growing in the pit of her stomach.  She didn’t like the way he was looking at her or how close he was standing.  And why was he telling her this?  Before now, he’d never spoken more than three sentences to her.  Something didn’t sit right.  And then it occurred to her.

“Wait, how do you know there’s a blood moon rising?” she said, her voice hardening with a flare of hostility.  “I’m Water Tribe and never so much as read about it before.”  Her brows drew lower as her suspicion mounted.  “This has something to do with your plan, doesn’t it?”

“Ozai’s plan, yes.”

“Which is also your plan,” she frowned harder.  “You’re helping him, right?”

“In a manner of speaking.  But not for charity’s sake.”  The words twisted his face in a grimace. 

Jiao proceeded to tell her of his dying wife, how he had agreed to help Ozai in exchange for enough money to retire comfortably and care for her.  Only now, time was growing short.  Ozai would not confer his payment until his service was complete, which meant he couldn’t leave now.  He could only hope to have a few days with her when this was over – a few days he hoped to make as happy and comfortable for her as possible.

“That’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” she scowled, crossing her arms.  “Almost as sad as a grown man unloading his sob story on a worthless _prisoner_.”  She waited for him to react, but he just stood there, rigid, unflinching.  She scoffed, annoyed.  “If there’s a point to this, I’d like to get to it now.  Otherwise, leave me in peace.”

“My point is to remind you of the power you hold.  Power only magnified under the force of a blood moon.”  He stepped in closer, brows pulled down hard.  “You are involved with a _dangerous_ man.  A man who will use any and all means necessary to further his agenda.  Even manipulating the heartstrings of a pretty girl.”  There was a flash of something in his eyes as he said it that made her stomach lurch.  Katara took a step back, but he followed closely.  “Do not make the mistake of thinking his feelings for you are sincere.  Ozai’s word is only good for as long as it benefits him.  For those too blinded by his silver tongue, it is often discovered too late.”  Jiao’s mouth twisted, like he’d just tasted something bitter.  “So if tomorrow night the side you’ve taken proves nothing than the remains of an empty promise… if it turns out this man, this  I hope you’ll have the strength to do what needs to be done.”

Katara’s eyes widened.  She furrowed an eyebrow, grasping for words.  “What do you mean?”

Jiao straightened and turned to leave.  “You’re a big girl.  I’ll let you figure it out.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara wrestled with sleep, unsuccessfully.  Sometimes she would drift closer again only to be pulled back to consciousness.  The night dragged on for eternity.  She tossed and turned, thinking surely morning must have come by now.  But her inner moon told her daylight was still hours away.  Finally, she gave up the fight and padded back out into the corridor to stand in front of Ozai’s door.  He was probably sleeping soundly.  She imagined herself curled up in his arms, drifting off to the thrum of his heartbeat.  Her stomach fluttered, but only for an instant as Jiao’s words came tumbling back to her. 

Her hearth seethed.  The man didn’t know what he was talking about.  Ozai’s feelings for her were real.  There was a fire in his gaze that burned for her every time their eyes met.  A passion in his touch that could never belong to a man just going through the motions.  Jiao didn’t know Ozai the way she did.  She tried to ignore the shards of doubt still wedged in the back of her mind and stepped forward.  With a small breath, she peeled back the curtain of Ozai’s chamber and, after a brief hesitation, slipped inside.

The room was almost completely dark, lit only by the candlelight leaking in under the foot of the door.  Katara waited and listened for a moment.  There it was.  The slow, even breathing of a deep sleep.  How she envied him that peace.  At the far side of the chamber, she could just make out the dark of Ozai’s slumbering form atop the stone cot at the wall.  Sleep eluded her in her own bed.  Maybe the comfort of Ozai beside her would calm her restless spirit.

Katara gulped a breath and tiptoed to the side of his bed.  As she reached toward the covers, she hesitated and bit her lip.  With her eyes adjusted to the dark, she noticed the bare porcelain skin of his shoulder and traced it down across his muscular back until his body submerged beneath the blanket.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt.  What else wasn’t he wearing?  She reined in her mind from wandering too far and reminded herself that she was only trying to get some sleep.  That was all.  So, drawing back the covers, she tentatively slid into bed beside him.  She waited to be sure he hadn’t woken him and then curled her body along his back.  He was so warm against her breasts and she shivered slightly.  Wrapping her arm timidly around the smooth skin of his waist, Katara finally felt the tides of sleep sweeping over her and let them carry her away.

She awoke in the morning to a hand sweeping gently across her forehead and back through her hair.  Katara’s eyes fluttered open to see Ozai lying on his side, facing her.  His other arm was bent up under his head like a pillow as his eyes skimmed over her.  She thought in passing how much larger his muscles looked at this angle.    He raked his fingers softly through her hair again.

“Well, this was unexpected,” he said in an almost-whisper.  “Waking up with a certain waterbender curled around me gives a new meaning to good morning.”  His mouth settled with a hint of a smile.  “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

His playful tone was electrifying.  Her face softened as a smile perched on her lips.  “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered back.  “I just… needed to feel you close to me.”  The words came out more pathetic than she had intended.  Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as her smile melted away.

His eyes darkened a note at the conflict in her tone.  Ozai leaned back, those amber eyes piercing her through.  “Something troubling you?”  His fingertips swept down the tender skin of her neck, brushing the hair back from her shoulder. 

“Ye – no, well… Kinda.”  She forced a little chuckle at the way she stumbled over the words.  Taking a deep breath, she propped her head on her hand and tried to think of a way to ask the question that was twisting up her insides.  “I know about the blood moon tomorrow night.  I know you’re planning something.  I wanna know what.”

“And just how did you come to learn of the blood moon?  Passed down by the Water Tribe’s elders, I assume.”

“Actually, no.”  Her lips hardened in a frown.  “Jiao told me.”

“Is that right?” he said with a snide twist of his mouth.  “What else did he tell you during your little heart to heart?”

“Does it matter?  I’m tired of you shutting me out of your plans.  If you won’t give this up, at least let me in.  I just want the truth.”

His eyes frowned but he said nothing.  Katara searched his face.  He just looked back at her, solemn, self-assured, enigmatic.

“Forget it,” she sighed, turning away.  “I should know better than to ask by now.  Not like you can trust me or anything.”

“Katara.”  Ozai’s deep voice was soft, almost hushed.  His fingers gripped her chin, turning her back to face him.  “I have no doubt that I can trust you.  You’ve proven yourself more than worthy of that.  But… it’s complicated.  Come tomorrow night, you’ll know everything.  Until then…”  His thumb stroked along the rise of her cheekbone.  “Try to trust _me_.”

Katara wanted to.  In fact, she couldn’t think of any reason not to trust him.  He had protected her and cared for her all this time and his words, while sometimes frustrating or insensitive, were always dripping with honesty, even when it hurt.  Her eyes scoured his features, looking for any trace of deceit.  All she found there was the warmth of his gaze and the shadow of a smile that she had come to know so well.  She could get lost in those eyes, in the heat simmering there.  When he looked at her that way, heat pooled in her chest.  She traced his mouth with her gaze, a small sigh brushing past the gap of her lips.

Ozai must have read it in her face because he leaned forward, his breath fluttering on her lips before they pressed to hers.  Helplessly, she felt herself opening like a flower under his kiss and let her hands glide over the smooth skin of his chest and up to his neck.  This was different from the other times.  He kissed her slowly but deliberately, with a heat that proved its own passion.  He was savoring her and she reveled in the fire of his touch, his bare skin beneath her fingers.  His chest pressed more firmly against hers as he rolled her gently to her back, tangling his legs with hers.  Ozai’s burning lips broke away to plant a kiss on her jaw, trailing kisses back toward her neck.  There was an electric charge as his lips brushed her ear.  The sigh of his warm breath sent a tingle through her belly and she hardly noticed how her fists balled up in his hair.   

Her breathing was growing heavier in a most undignified way, but she didn’t care and she didn’t fight it.  And as the wave of euphoria mounted, she let go and let it carry her away.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The edges of the sky were tinted with the coming of dusk.  The sun would soon begin its descent and give way to the moon’s red splendor.  It was time. 

Jiao nodded at the two men on his right.  “The village is at the top of the ravine.  Make sure Fire Lord Ozai’s ship has set sail before you alert the guards.  See that on one spots you on the ascent or they might suspect something.”

The men gave a grim nod, shrugging on their gear and beginning the climb up the stony gorge.  Jiao turned his attention downward, to the two dark shapes descending toward the sea’s edge and the ship that rocked gently there in waiting.  Black clouds were creeping over the horizon.  The glow of the sun cast an eerie green against the dark grey.   The foam below was already thrashing more wildly.  Hopefully Ozai and the girl would reach the island before the storm hit.

A coldness clinched his stomach.  After all these months, after all the blood and the tears and the sweat, the time was here at last.  A few more hours and he could go home to his wife with his reward – her last bits of happiness – in hand.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“Sokka, I’m telling you for the last time, shut your trap.”

Zuko sat forward on Appa’s head, steering the reigns as they soared over the stony gorge.  The muscles in his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth.  The cool evening wind whistled past his ears and whipped the hair back from his face.

“It’s obvious they’re not here,” Sokka bellowed behind him from Appa’s saddle.  “This place is deader than a Goth party.  We’ve spent too much time raking over this gods-forsaken area as it is.”

Zuko’s hands fisted tighter into the reigns but he said nothing.  After their second night of rocky sleep in Sukoshi’s stables, not everyone had been in agreement about what to do next.  Where to direct their search.  Two days of scouring the gorge had turned up nothing.  Sokka had insisted that they should forget that place and move the search outside the town.  One by one, the others had agreed with him.  In the end though, Zuko had played the Fire Lord card and dragged them out to the gorge again.  There was something about it that kept drawing him back.  If he could only have a little more time, convince them to stay a little while longer…

“Zuko, Sokka’s right.  You gotta give it a rest,” Toph piped up.  “Your old man’s given us the slip again.  The more time we waste, the more distance he’ll put between us.” 

“And my sister,” Sokka added.  “We have to expand our search –”

“No!” he snapped and sliced a hand at the warrior.  Zuko let out a short breath.  “He’s here somewhere, I know it.”

Behind him, the warrior scoffed.  “How can you possibly be sure of that?”

“Call it intuition,” he muttered grimly.  “I just know my father.  He didn’t go through that town.  He’s up to something.”

A moment passed in silence, but Zuko could feel Sokka’s eyes on him like two picks of ice.  “You better hope you’re right.”

But Zuko wasn’t right.  After hours of flying and weaving and searching, he’d finally had to throw his arms up and admit that he had been wrong.  That his “intuition” had cost them days of precious time.  This was the closest they had been to arresting his father and Katara, and now there was no telling where they might be.  Ugh, he was such an idiot.

“What did I tell you?” Sokka bit at him as they climbed down from Appa’s saddle.  A Sukoshi guard nodded to them and led Appa back to the stables.  Zuko stalked off with Sokka hot on his heels.  “If you had just listened to me in the first place, we might have had a chance to rescue Katara.  But nope.  Instead, we lost them.  Again!”

Zuko spun around, his heart on fire.  “Alright, I get it!  I’m an Agni-damned moron who can’t do anything right.  I’m screwed up beyond repair.  But none of this is getting us any closer to Katara, is it?!”  He stepped inches from Sokka and glared down at him, shoving a threatening finger in his chest.  “So how about you shove all this self-righteous hogshit up your posterior and help us come up with a plan that _will_ find her.”

The hurried clomp of heavy boots interrupted them.  Zuko turned to see a guard running toward them, urgency painted on his face.

“My lord,” he began through heavy breaths, “we just received an eye-witness report that Ozai may have been spotted down in the ravine.”

Zuko met Sokka’s sour gaze.  His mouth pressed into a line.  “We just came from there.  We didn’t see anything.”

“Two hikers allegedly saw him boarding a ship at the water’s edge.  There was a girl with him.”  Zuko’s eyebrows lifted at the words.  Could it be?  “Perhaps you missed him, my lord.”

Zuko nodded.  There was a chance the sighting was unrelated, just a sailor or a fisherman, but something told him it was no coincidence.  He knew there was a reason he was drawn to the ravine.  It had to be him.

“Thank you, soldier.  Have our bison re-saddled and brought back out immediately.”

The guard nodded and hastened toward the stables.

“Do you really think it’s him?” Suki asked hesitantly.  “What if it’s just another dead end?”

“It won’t be.  I’m certain of it.”  He shot a gloating scowl at Sokka before turning toward the coast.  The ocean fanned out beyond the cliffs as the sun dipped below the surface.  Angry black clouds were swelling in from the north.  The shrill cries of white birds came mixed with the words that burned up from his chest.

“Time for a family reunion.”


	30. Chapter 30

Jiao crushed the piece of paper in his hand and choked back the stinging tears.  He watched the messenger hawk shrink to a dot in the ginger sky and tried to breathe past the pain.  He hadn’t been there for her.  Star of his life, beloved – she had graced the earth with her last sweet breath and he hadn’t been at her side.  What must she have thought in those last moments?  That he had abandoned her?  Surely with all his letters, she would have known that wasn’t true.  She would have known that what he was doing was all for her.  Right?

It didn’t matter.  None of that changed his absence when she had needed him most.  He had failed her.

Thoughts trickled up from the reservoir of bitterness churning and sputtering inside him.

 _Ozai_.

If it weren’t for him, he could have been there to hold her hand and calm her fears in her last days.  The money seemed like such a trivial matter now.  Money couldn’t have bought her happiness any more than it could have bought her health.  He had withheld the only thing of true happiness she’d had: his love.  And for what?  To watch some power-hungry narcissist swindle a naïve girl into believing he’d fallen for her so he could fulfill some heinous self-ordained prophecy?  Balled fists trembled at his sides.  He was a fool beyond compare.

Jiao took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, a shuddering sigh.  The man was a monster.  Why had it taken him so long to see?  The girl’s face flashed through his mind.  The face of a beautiful world teetering on the brink of a catastrophe like it had never seen.  And he had been the oil to its spinning gears.  What had he done?  His eyes darted down to the whitecaps leaping at the shoreline, to the boat he had tied up in the inlet there.  It pitched and swayed in the flogging waves.  There wasn’t much time, but if he hurried…

He stooped down to sling his pack over his shoulder and placed a hand alongside his boot.  It was reassuring, those familiar knobs of the hilt of his blade.  Its twin was nestled snugly in his other boot.  They had never failed him before.  He rose again and squared his shoulders.  There was no going back.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara rested her arms for a moment as the current beneath the ship slowed.  Propelling it through the crashing waves was a lot more work than she had thought.  Her arms were burning and she tried to shake out the knots that tightened themselves there.  She took a moment to catch her breath and glanced up at the sky.  The sun had slipped beneath the earth, only a few licks of gold left on the horizon in its wake, and the moon was riding high.  The blood moon.

She shuddered, watching its slow ascent in the darkening sky.  The swells and crests of the ocean’s waves winked a deep red, and the higher the moon climbed the thicker it cast its veil of blood over the earth. 

The soft thud of boots pulled her from her thoughts.  Ozai stepped toward her and nodded at the sky.

“Now there’s a sight you don’t see every day.”  His irises looked almost orange in the light of the moon, burning like two orbs of fire.  It stirred a familiar heat in the pit of her stomach and she tore her gaze away despite the ache.

“Yeah,” she breathed, looking up again.  “So eerie.”

A wave lapped against the side of the ship as a gust of wind whipped the hair across her face.  On the other side of the wind was a quiet so heavy, it sent her hair standing on end.  Only the slap of water on wood punctured the vacuum of silence over the blood-stained earth.  A chill prickled up her spine.

“It isn’t much farther now.”  Ozai pointed to a dark smear on the horizon that she could now see was the island.  “Think you can manage?”

She gazed at the spot for a moment before turning back to him.  “Please, Ozai.  There’s still time to change your mind.  Whatever this is won’t change the way I feel about you.  You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all me.  I’m already yours.  Why can’t you just be happy with that and move on?”

“This isn’t about us.  This about justice.  I can’t say any more than that.”

She cocked an eyebrow.  “What does that mean?”  Katara waited for an answer she knew would not come.  Frowning, she turned away with a sigh.  Her heart felt like it was shrinking.  He didn’t trust her.  Not completely.  Silence hung between them for a long moment before she finally spoke again.  “Alright, listen.  Maybe this is something you have to do.  Something personal that you’d rather keep hidden, and I can understand that.  But I’m asking you one more time, as the woman who l–”

The words cut off in her throat, her eyes wide at the weight of them hanging in the balance.  Katara choked on a gasp and broke eye contact, working her gaze back to his meekly.  His eyes were glued to her with an intensity that told her he already knew. 

“The woman who what, exactly?”  His eyes were creased with the shadow of a smile.  “Go on, finish the sentence.”

She blinked, hesitating, looking for an out.  Her brows pinched together.  “Don’t embarrass me, Ozai.  You already know –”

“Do I?”  The words came smoky and hushed, sending a prickling heat down her belly.  The corners of his mouth tugged up gently.  “Say it, Katara.”

She scrunched her eyes closed and drew a sigh, the words barely a breath as they rose so heavily from her heart.  “The woman who loves you.”

Ozai stepped forward and cupped her face, locking his lips with hers in a kiss at once tender and passionate her knees almost buckled.  He pulled her into him, off her helpless feet and a sound pitched in the back of her throat, a soft moan into his mouth.  He kissed her deeper then, his tongue sweeping lightly against hers.  Katara clung to him like life itself, his coarse cloak in her small fists as she pressed herself into him.  Because he was hers and she was his.  She belonged with him.

All too soon he pulled away, leaving Katara’s stomach reeling with desire.  Breathlessly, he rested his forehead on hers.  “The woman who loves me.”  The smile in his voice was contagious.  She let herself melt into his arms.  “Your touch, your embrace, everything you are blazes a fire through my soul.  What can I do but to love you back?  My waterbender…”

She smiled faintly but drew back, meeting his eyes with a soulful pleading.  “Then please, let the past go so we can start over.  Together.”

The glint in Ozai’s eyes deepened as he ran a thumb along her cheek.  “Just a few loose ends to tie up.  And then we will.”

A while later, the boat cut through the seaweed and undergrowth, scraping against the gravelly seabed as it made berth on the island’s shore.  The forest atop the land was dense, darkening with the dusk, a sea of glossy red leaves beneath the moon.  There was a nagging pit in her stomach.  Something was off about this place.  A silence surrounded the island so absolute that the air between the gusts of wind felt thick and stagnant.  The lap of the waves on shore was deafening in contrast.  Even her own heartbeat sounded too loud.

But it was the wildlife that really sent a shiver down her spine.  Something was wrong with them.  The fish kept swimming in a slow lull to the water’s edge, turning away at the bank only to circle back again and again, endlessly.  Like something was calling them landward and they were desperate to answer.  There were birds circling the island in a daze-like stupor, perfectly tracing its perimeter as though bound to its margins.  Sometimes one would break off to dive down into the dark of the forest, only to reemerge and circle again.  They didn’t make a sound, just circled and swooped, over and over.  No rhyme or reason to the almost chaotic way they moved.  It was like the wildlife around the island slipped into an unyielding trance, obsessed with this tiny spit of land.

Ozai extended a hand and helped her over the side of the boat.  Her feet splashed gently in the shallow waters, a knife in the driving silence.  They trudged onto the sandy soil and stood before the glowering tree line.  After a moment, Ozai started forward, waving for her to follow.  Katara didn’t want to follow.

“Do we have to go in there?”

He stopped and turned to her.  “What, afraid of a few trees?”  A corner of his mouth turned up.

She huffed, waving a hand toward the black forest.   “You don’t find this place just a little bit creepy?”

“Creepy?”  Ozai’s chest pitched with a little chuckle.  “Are you letting such childish fears get the best of you?”

Katara crossed her arms but didn’t respond.  Of course she felt silly, but something just wasn’t right here.  Ozai retraced his steps, taking her hand.  “Alright, fine, why don’t you wait for me at the base of the forest?  You won’t have to come in and I won’t be long anyway.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and Katara smiled a little nod as her muscles relaxed a degree.  He brought her hand to his lips in a brush of a kiss.  “It’ll all be over soon.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

No one said anything as they flew over the sea below, now dressed in a mist of red.  The silence drilled an opening in the pit of Zuko’s stomach and made the lump in his throat burn, penetrated at intervals by the muffled growls of Aang still bound beneath the sleeping bag.  Sweat beaded on his brow despite the chill as they cut through the air, his eyes scouring the land for a boat or ship, any sign of his father. 

Something glinted in the corner of his eye, so faintly that he would have missed it if hadn’t been looking for it.  But there it was.  A small Earth Kingdom boat bobbing gently on the shore of a tiny island, moonlight winking against the wet wood as it swayed to and fro.  The familiar cold grip of dread squeezed his heart until it thudded in his throat.  He hoped he wasn’t too late.

“Down there,” he strained through the thickness in his throat, pointing.  Zuko drew the reins hard, circling Appa down toward the island.  They crashed through the treetops and weaved down into a small clearing.  They hadn’t even touched down on the ground when a haunting voice, nauseatingly familiar, made skin crawl.

“Ah, Avatar, we meet again.  It’s been too long.”

Zuko gritted his teeth and jumped to the ground before the bison’s feet had barely touched the earth.  “Not long enough,” he barked back.  Throwing back his hood, he wallowed in the triumph as his father’s gloating expression evolved into shock.

“Zuko…?”  The words came in a low rasp under his breath, almost inaudible.  But Zuko heard.

A faint sneer blossomed through his fury.  “Hello, father.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Ozai growled, angry veins bulging from his temples.  “Where is the Avatar?!”

In a few thunderous strides, Zuko was at his father’s throat, the searing flames of a fire dagger gnawing at his neck.  His other hand dug furiously into his arm, wrenching Ozai so close he could feel the tense little puffs of breath on his face.

“Where is Katara?”

Ozai gave a sharp, guttural laugh.  “Is that why you’re here?  Always such a fool for a pretty face.  I was hoping you’d come to see me.”

Zuko could see the tightening of Ozai’s jaw, the twitch of a muscle to hide a wince, as he clawed his fingers deeper into his arm.  “Tell me where she is, or I swear by Agni I will blast you into the next life.”

Ozai set his jaw with a crooked smirk.  Before Zuko could think, powerful hands gripped his wrist.  A thumb found a pressure point and Zuko howled in pain as Ozai shoved him back forcefully, extinguishing the flames from his hand.  His father’s lip quivered with a silent snarl.  “Not until I see the Avatar.”

A long moment passed between them.  Zuko glared at his father like a rabid wolf, refusing to back down.  It was a trap.  It was always a trap.  But with Katara’s life on the line, he couldn’t afford not to take the bait.

“How can I know you’re not lying?” he rasped through clenched teeth.

Ozai shrugged, too casually.  “I guess you can’t.  Looks like you’ll have to trust your old man.”

With a flick of his wrist, Zuko ignited a fire ball and stepped inches from his father’s face, holding it in striking position.  “You think you’re in any position to be calling the shots right now?  You’re outnumbered six to one.  In one move, I could end you.”

“Go ahead.  Let’s see if you’re finally man enough to do it.”  The flames licked dangerously close to Ozai’s hair, singeing a loose strand.  The pungent, sulfurous smell stung his nose and throat.  Ozai didn’t even flinch.  Zuko’s lips curled back from clenched teeth, hand trembling with fury, but Ozai only laughed as Zuko stood there, rushed breathing, ears pounding.  With every moment he stalled, his father gained another foothold.  He was losing the battle.  And Katara.  Gods, why couldn’t he do it?  “Bring me the Avatar.”  Ozai’s laugh died to a deep scowl.  “Or I promise you will never see your little waterbender again.”

His breathing came heavy as Zuko tried to compose himself.  He took a step back but kept the fireball in position.  “I need to know Katara’s okay first.  I’m not giving you anything until you can prove that to me.”

“I’m afraid my word will have to suffice for now.”

“That’s not good enough!”  The fire exploded into a blaze as he sliced his hand through the air.

“Well, that’s a shame.”  Ozai crossed his arms with mock disappointment.  “What will Katara think when she hears you put a higher price on the life of your Avatar than on her?”

“That’s not going to work–” 

“I doubt she’ll be very grieved at all, actually.  She and I have grown rather fond of each other.”

Zuko’s stomach turned to lead as a flood of nauseating images forced its way into his mind.  His mouth suddenly went sour and he thought me might gag.  Fury boiled up from his heart so hot he couldn’t see straight.  Without taking his eyes off his father, he sliced an arm back through the air, signaling for his friends to remove the sleeping bag.  Aang was raised up, thrashing and growling, barely held back between Sokka and Hakoda’s grasp.  Zuko watched as Ozai’s brow stitched, his mouth a little slack with suppressed shock.

“There!  Here’s your Avatar!  Is this what you’d hoped to see?”  His nostrils flared with seething disgust, waiting for his father to say something.  “I fulfilled my end of the bargain.  Now _where_ is Katara?”

“She’s safely waiting on the other side of the island.”  Ozai’s voice had taken on a strangely placid tone that sent a chill down Zuko’s spine.  “Give me a moment and I’ll bring her to you.” 

“Wrong!  If you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you better think again.  I’m coming with you.”

Ozai shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”

“Zuko, no.  You can’t go alone,” Sokka shouted, leaping to the ground after him.  “This has trap written all over it.  Someone’s gotta watch your back.”

“ _Just_ Zuko, if you please,” Ozai snapped.  “It’s been so long since we’ve had a good father-son chat.”

Zuko locked a solemn expression on Sokka and nodded.  The warrior grimaced and shook his head but backed down.

“I can manage my father,” he assured him.  “You guys stay here in case anything crazy happens.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

The night air was cold and clammy, its moisture clinging to his skin like a damp film.  Zuko shoved his father along, keeping a keen eye on the path he was leading for any sign of deception.  Soft earth whispered and branches creaked as their feet shuffled through the detritus.  Aside from their footsteps, the island was heavy with an unnerving silence.  Zuko tried not to notice.

“So, son…” his father said at length.  “Did you miss me?”

“Shut up.”  Zuko shoved a fist into his father’s back.  “Just keep walking.”

“As you say, Fire Lord.”  Zuko could hear the cold sneer on his father’s face.  He gritted his teeth but said nothing.  Moments passed in silence before Ozai spoke again.  “Please, indulge my curiosity.  Exactly how were you able to track me down?  I know you didn’t manage it on your wits alone, _clever_ as you may be.”  The insult hung in the air like a foul odor.  Zuko ignored it.  It wasn’t worth his time.

“Her name’s Genshi.  She’s a conjurer.”

“That little mousy woman you have with you?” Ozai scoffed.

Zuko wanted to bark at him not to call her that, but he knew it would only give his father more of what he wanted.  Instead he steered the conversation.  “Her visions suggested some sickening things, father,” he hissed in his ear as he pressed his father forward.  “Disturbing things.  About you and Katara.”

“Disturbing?  Oh now, I wouldn’t say–”

“It wasn’t enough to take her as your hostage?  You had to force yourself on her, too, like some monster?”

Ozai smirked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.  “Who said anything about force?”

His stomach twisted.  The nausea slowed his steps to a halt.  “You’re lying.  Katara would never –!”

“What?” Ozai leered, stopping to turn to him.  “Give herself to a man like me?  It’s no fault of mine that she fell in love with me, Zuko.  Has it never occurred to you that perhaps the blame lies with you?  That she found herself in need of a real man and was heretofore unsatisfied?”

A jolt of white-hot rage pulsed through him and something inside him snapped.  “Aarrrgh!” he roared and kicked a blinding burst of flame at his father before charging him.  The older man narrowly dodged the attack but met Zuko with a swift, sudden kick to the stomach.  Stunned, he staggered back, doubled over as he gulped for air.

Ozai paced around him in slow, intimidating steps as he watched his son struggle to breathe.  “The truth is an ugly thing, isn’t it?  So inconvenient.  Unlike the pretty lies we fancy, you can only ignore the truth for so long until it blindsides you with its rawness.  Choosing to carry on in ignorance despite it is your own folly.”

“I don’t believe you,” he grated out.

“No?  Here.  She can tell you herself.”  Ozai gestured to a clearing about ten feet ahead.  A sweetly familiar form rose from where she was seated.

“Ozai!  You’re back already?” 

For a moment Zuko couldn’t speak.  He could only stare as the woman he loved, the woman he wasn’t sure he would ever see again, stood mere strides away from him, safe and sound.  She didn’t see him right away though.  She stepped eagerly toward them, extending welcoming hands that he realized with dread were meant for his father.  She quickly pulled back as her eyes finally settled on him.  “Zuko?!”

Air flooded back to his lungs at his name on her lips.  “Katara!  Are you alright?”  Zuko rushed forward, ignoring the ache in his stomach as he held his arms out to her.  Instead, Katara drew back, landing a prickly expression on him that stopped him short.

“What are you doing here?”

Like another blow to the gut, he couldn’t draw a breath.  “What do you mean?  I’m here to rescue you.”

“Do I look like I need rescuing?”  She gave a callous little laugh.  Zuko could only stare at her, dumbfounded.  It was so unlike her.  “It’s been… how many months?  And _now_ you decide to show up?”

“How could you say that?!  I’ve been searching night and day since the moment you went missing.  I’ve hardly slept for fear that I’d never see you again.  And now that I’ve found you…”  He shook his head with a grimace.  “You can’t _seriously_ want to stay with him!  Don’t you see, he’s manipulating you, just like he manipulates everyone.  He’s brainwashed you into seeing and feeling what he wants you to for his own agenda.  And I’m putting an end to it now.  Come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

Reaching out, he had barely caught hold of her hand when her soft skin jerked back through his fingers.

“No!” she snarled.  “I’m not going anywhere with you.  Why don’t you go on your merry little way and find your next little plaything, Zuko.  I’m through playing the part.”

Zuko blinked, trying to make sense of her words.  A cold ball of dread was lodging itself in his chest.  “Wait.  What?”

“It wasn’t real, was it?  None of it was real.”  Her voice came strained but even, almost cold.  “Just another pretty face to add to your collection.  And I can’t believe I fell for it.”

“What are you –?”  He cut himself off, eyes widening, as the reality of the situation took shape.  Zuko spun around and growled at his father through clenched teeth.  Veins corded in his neck as he tried to breathe through the rage.  “What did you tell her?!” his voice boomed across the clearing.

“Only the truth.  As I said, it’s an ugly thing, Zuko.  You should have known your voracious appetite for women would come back to haunt you.”

Lips parting, his brows pulled up over widened eyes.  Zuko turned back to Katara, heartbeat sluggish, as he held his hand out to her in a desperate plea.  His throat suddenly went dry.  “Katara, please,” he croaked out.  “Come with me.  Whatever he’s told you, I can explain.”

“Forget it!  I’m staying with Ozai.”

With a smug grin, his father put an arm around her shoulder, weaving his fingers through her hair.  “You see, son?  She’s made her choice.  And you’re wasting your time.”

Zuko shook with a palpable fury.  “I never should have let Aang spare your life.”

“You know, it’s such a shame that I ever had to call you son.  You’re pathetically weak, Zuko.  You’ve proven it again and again.  Letting the avatar spare me is no exception.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t be making that mistake again.”  His meaning lingered just long enough, nostrils flaring, before he loosened the reins on his fury.  “Rraagghh!!”  Zuko spun into a kick, shooting a powerful burst of flame at Ozai’s head.  Landing, he fired a second burst with his other leg.  Ozai ducked nimbly beneath the first shot but came up barely in time to skim past the second.  With a growl, he jumped out of Zuko’s line of fire.

The shrill ring of metal sounded as Ozai drew his blade.  In one swift movement, he rolled out of range of another fireball and back again, slashing the dagger against the flesh of Zuko’s leg.  With a scream, Zuko dropped to the ground.  There wasn’t even enough time to counter before Ozai was pinning him down, cold, sharp steel biting into his neck.  He seized his father’s hand, groaning against the effort as he fought to keep the knife at bay.

“It must be so embarrassing,” he sneered through a growl.  “Even without firebending, I can still put you in your place.”

Zuko’s arms were growing weaker against his father’s superior strength and he knew time was running out.  He brought a knee up hard into Ozai’s stomach.  There was a grunt of pain and a quick slack in his strength.  That was all Zuko needed.  He jabbed his elbow up and into Ozai’s neck.  Choking, he rolled to the ground.

Zuko spun to his feet, clenching his teeth at the searing pain in his leg.  A gush of warm blood trickled down his leg with the sudden movement.  He tried not to think about how deep the gash might be.  Or how much blood he was losing.  With a sweep of his arms, he sent an arc of fire fanning out at his father.  Staggering to his feet, Ozai sliced his blade through it, sending the flames roaring to either side of him.  And then he took off, ducking and dodging through the attacks with the speed and agility of a leopard-fox.  In between the roars and blasts of firebending, Katara’s voice rang out in frantic cries for peace.  But Zuko hardly noticed.

With a powerful spin, he shot out a whirling wheel of fire.  Ozai cut his dagger through it again, blocking the attack.  But the flames caught on the sleeve of his cloak, erupting into a blaze on contact.  Zuko wasn’t about to give him time to put it out.  Instead, he launched another arc of fire which caught on a side of his pants.  Ozai was screaming now, the flames eating past the fabric to his skin.  It had already devoured his sleeve by the time Ozai flung off his cloak.  Even in the dim crimson light of the moon, Zuko could see that his father’s arm was badly blistered.

Ozai rolled to the ground, evading another attack while feverishly trying to put out the fire on his leg.  His pants below the knee were already eaten away as the fire crept up, the skin sizzling and blistering in its wake.  Ozai yowled in pain as he rolled, dead leaves and dirt sticking to his wounded leg.  The fight was all but over, Zuko knew.  This was it.  Taking a deep breath, he readied a last strike – a fire bomb, one that would surely end this fight for good.

As he drew back his arm for the strike, something lashed out and struck him off balance.  Stunned, Zuko turned to see Katara leveling a harsh expression on him, reclaiming a water whip.  Her brows quaked over icy blue eyes.  Part of him felt sorry for her.  She looked so conflicted and hurt.  But…  She’d struck him!  To save his father.  Her captor.

Or maybe he wasn’t her captor anymore. 

His rage – and, was it a shade of jealousy? – boiled anew.  Zuko took a step toward her, fists balled at his sides, and opened his mouth to say something.

There was a loud, powerful blow as something came down hard on the back of his head.  He staggered forward, mouth agape, unable to utter so much as a gasp against the pain.  A flash of metal – the hilt of a blade?  It was hard to tell through the darkness bleeding into his vision.  He saw the blur of his father appear before him, awash in the red glow of the moon, watching him with a hard expression as Zuko’s trembling legs buckled.  His knees sunk into the soft, damp earth.  Somewhere far away there was the sweet melody of Katara’s voice.  Ozai mumbled something in return and Zuko strained to understand but the darkness was already too thick.

And then he was falling.  Cold, wet grass stung his face as his body collided with the ground.  Zuko latched onto the last shred of consciousness he had, willing himself to his feet.  Katara… 

But it was too late.  Darkness was complete.


	31. Chapter 31

Katara held the glowing water steady over Ozai’s arm, the blistered skin hissing at the cool contact.  Her arms were starting to tremble, like her muscles were made of jelly.  The wound on his leg had been deeper and more extensive than it had looked on the surface.  At least his arm wasn’t so bad.

Silence filled the space between them, heavy and cold and dripping with something that pinched her stomach.  Katara chewed her lip and glanced up at Ozai’s face, at the lines that formed between his furrowed brows, the hardness of his jaw.  His gaze was fixed on the ground.  If he noticed her studying him, he didn’t let on.

She took a breath in and held it a moment before finally speaking.  “Alright.  I need answers.”  Her voice sounded more timid than she had intended.  Frowning, she cleared her throat.  “What is going on?  How did Zuko get here?”

“There’s no time to explain.”  His tone was low and even.  He didn’t look up.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

“ _Don’t_ do that.”  The fire in her voice surprised even her and, finally, Ozai looked at her.  “Don’t you dare reduce me to some gullible, half-witted child.  _Make_ me understand.”

Ozai jerked his arm back from her.  It wasn’t fully healed but he didn’t seem to care.  There would likely be a scar.  The water splashed to the spongy earth as he took a large stride toward her, forcing her to step back.  “You want to understand?”  The words came less harsh than she had expected, though his brows were drawn low.  Not scowling really.  Just gravely serious.  “Fine.  I’ll show you what’s going on.”

Katara started to follow him but drew back suddenly.  She turned to Zuko, still lying in a heap on the dank ground.  The grass around him glistened red.  For a moment she thought it was the moon.  She quickly realized it was blood.  Her mouth went dry.  “Wait,” she called after Ozai.  “We can’t just leave him here like this.”

“No?” he said flatly, turning around.  “Why not?”

“Because he’s hurt.  He could die.”  Ozai said nothing.  A deep ache spread across her chest.  “Please, just let me heal him before we go.”

Ozai’s frown deepened, forcing lines between his brows.  Finally, he nodded.  “Make it quick.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

“What’s taking so long?  Zuko should have been back by now with Katara.”  Sokka paced back and forth in front of Appa, picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails.  Toph stood nearby with her arms crossed, tapping her foot while Suki and Hakoda sat in the saddle above, keeping an eye on Aang.  Genshi sat on the opposite side of the saddle alone.

“Would you stop moving?” Toph huffed.  “You’re driving me crazy.”

Sokka just grunted and shot her a look.  He couldn’t admit that the constant motion was the only thing keeping him from imploding.  Maybe if he just kept moving, the fear and the pain and the anger couldn’t keep up.  It was all he could do until he knew for sure what had become of his sister.

Toph sighed.  “Look, I’m sure they’re both fine.  Sparky can handle himself.  And Ozai doesn’t have his firebending anymore, remember?”

“Yeah… somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

Toph’s mouth pressed into a line.  She blinked and looked toward him for a long moment before her gaze fell away.  She knew it was true.

Suddenly, Appa jerked his head up and rose to his feet, startling Sokka to a stop.  The hair on the bison’s neck bristled as a low growl rumbled in the quiet. 

“What is it, Appa?”

Sokka exchanged a look with his friends.  He strained to hear anything out of place.  The snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves.  But there was only the stifling silence all around them.

“Maybe an animal,” Genshi offered.

Sokka rolled his eyes coldly.  “Have you seen a single living thing on this island since we got here?  Yeah, I don’t think so.”

They waited, tense, hardly breathing.  Sokka looked over his shoulder at his father and Suki, who shrugged just as Appa shifted his feet and growled again, deeper and louder this time.  Sokka felt it vibrate in his chest and the earth below his feet.  The foliage beyond the clearing was so thick, he couldn’t see a thing.  He reached back and placed a hand on his boomerang, waiting.

And then from behind him, there came a voice so haunting and full of malice that Sokka’s body went cold, like plunging into a pool of ice.  White knuckles clutched around his weapon as he turned to see Aang’s face twisted in an unnatural way, the other-worldly voice forcing its way from his mouth, filling the air like a noxious gas.  “Finally.”

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Something terrible was brewing.  Katara could feel it twisting and kneading her stomach as she followed Ozai through the too-quiet forest.  Any minute now it would boil over, and she could feel a scream building inside knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The pulse in her fingertips marked the passing seconds.  The air felt heavy in her lungs despite the chill.  Through the tangled web of branches above, the moon pierced the sky like a drop of blood and she shuddered.  So when the thunderous growl came from somewhere up ahead, powerful and threatening, she gasped, instinctively grabbing onto Ozai’s arm.

Her mind raced.  Wait…  She knew that growl.  Of course she did.  It had to be Appa. 

Suddenly a chorus of voices broke out beyond the trees, shouting at each other about something she couldn’t understand.  There was one word, though, that kept rising to the surface.  _Aang_.

Her stomach churned.  Ozai was leading her to Aang?  Why would he do that? 

And why were they shouting at him like that?

A voice she recognized rose above the others just long enough for her to pick it out.   Sokka?  Katara gasped.  There was no mistaking that melodramatic lilt.

“My brother’s here?!” she croaked out.

Ozai just started forward again, and after a few paces he led her into a large clearing. 

Katara stumbled to a stop.  A wave of numbness prickled down her body and then a wave of heat.  Her gaping mouth moved but no words would come.  So many familiar faces.  Faces she thought were gone from her life forever.

The shouting ceased and heads turned as their presence became known.  Her eyes swept over them and lingered on the form of her father, rising to his feet on Appa’s saddle.

“Katara,” he grated out, his voice thick with emotion. 

She turned back to Ozai then, her eyes hot with brimming tears.  She shook her head back and forth, choking on the thickness in her throat.  Before she could speak, he wrapped his hand around hers, warm and firm, though his eyes were trained on the faces before them.  “Just trust me,” he rasped under his breath. 

There was that word again.  Trust.  But if he wanted her to trust him, why wouldn’t he trust _her_ to know what was going on? 

“Get your coils off my daughter!  Katara!  Get away from him!”  Hakoda drew his battle club and jumped to the ground, taking thunderous strides toward them.  Ozai stepped into his path, his hand still around hers.

“Not so fast.”  He held up his free hand casually, as though her father weren’t charging at him with a huge weapon at the ready.  “I still have business with the Avatar.” 

Hakoda skidded to a stop, nostrils flaring.  “And you have it all wrong if you think I’m letting you dictate one more facet of this negotiation.” 

“Well then it wouldn’t be much of a negotiation, would it?” Ozai smirked.

Hakoda pulled his club back threateningly, his lip curling. “Let go of her!  Or spirits help me, you’ll spend the rest of your disgusting life wishing I had just killed you.”  Katara knew that look.  He wasn’t bluffing.  She tried hard to swallow.

“Tell him, Dad!” Sokka yelled from behind him.

Ozai gave a condescending chuckle.  “Very well.  But if you think I’m holding her back, I’m afraid you’re in for a disappointment.”  He released her hand and stepped aside.  His golden eyes locked onto hers as he extended a hand toward her father.  “Katara.”

The lines in Hakoda’s forehead smoothed slightly as he looked from Ozai to Katara.  He stepped forward and cupped a hand to her face.  “Katara, sweetheart, are you alright?  Did he hurt you?”  His arm reached around her neck to wrap her in an embrace.

Katara squeezed her eyes shut against the tears and backed away, unable to lift her face toward him.  Instinctively he leaned after her, his hand falling to his side.

“Katara?”  His voice was scratchy from the hurt.  “What are you doing?”

Ozai pulled her to him gently and wrapped his arm around her.  She pressed her body into his, hoping that somehow she would disappear.  A warm tear escaped down her cheek.

“What did I tell you?”  Ozai pressed a slow, soft kiss to her head, his eyes trained on Hakoda with a smirk.  “She’s mine.”

Every muscle in Hakoda’s body jerked tight.  The veins in his temples bulged as he swung back the club with a feral growl.

“Fire Lord Ozai.”  Just as he was about to lunge forward, a terrible, unearthly voice resounded from somewhere in the clearing.  Katara jumped at the sound, her eyes searching for the source.  “I believe you’ve been looking for me.” 

Katara had to blink hard before she realized in horror that Aang’s mouth was moving in unison with the words.  That voice was coming from inside him!

And then she realized something else.  She had heard that voice before.  The spirit that had appeared to her and Ozai in that monster-infested cave.  He had said he wanted to help them.  That he was on their side.  Katara had wanted to believe it then.  She would have believed anything in order to get out of that demon haven.  But now the words smelled like a foul lie.  Whatever the spirit wanted, she was sure it wasn’t good.

Ozai must have recognized the voice too because a corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

“Yes,” he replied assertively.  Ozai took a step forward, past a seething Hakoda.  “You took away my firebending.  I want it back.”

Katara felt something inside her crack.  That’s what this was about?  His stupid firebending?  Her mind was spinning.  How did he intend to get it back?  It’s not like Aang would just walk up and hand it back to him.  Unless, somehow, Ozai had discovered a way to energybend it back into himself…

The spirit inside Aang laughed.  “And you think I’d do that simply because you asked?”

“I think you’ll do it if you want Katara back.” 

Katara’s head spun toward him.  _What?_  From the corner of his eye, Ozai shot her a look.  She forced herself to breathe.  He was bluffing, of course.  This was why he kept telling her to trust him.  Still, she couldn’t ignore the nagging ache near her heart.

At the sound of her name, Aang’s face twisted.  His body began twitching and contorting violently against his restraints in the saddle.  Suki tried to wrestle him down, but Aang sent her flying off like a loose crumb.  With a loud snap, the bonds broke free as he rose into the air, his eyes and tattoos glowing brightly.  But not white.  They were glowing a brilliant, frightening red.

A wind current burst into a spiral around him so powerful that it echoed like a small explosion, driving everyone back.  Katara’s ears popped with the surging pressure as the trees were thrashed into a violent frenzy.  She screamed and clutched at Ozai’s arm, shielding her eyes against the dirt and debris to look up at Aang.  The rage had contorted his face into something almost unrecognizable.  Was that spirit controlling him?  Or was this really what Aang had become?

“Kkatarraa.”  His voice rang out in a booming, echoing thunder.  “Yyourr ddecceitffulnness aandd iinffidelityy hhaave sseealledd yyourr ffaate!  Yyourr ffrienndss hhavve bbroughtt ssufferingg uponn tthemselvesss wwhenn ttheyy cchose yyourr ssiidee.  Yyouu wwiill alll ppaay fforr the wwrrongss yyouu hhavve iinfflicttedd upponn mmeee!”

The wind whipped and lashed the hair around her face.  All around, there was the terrifying clashing of branches like a thousand fingers being snapped and broken.  All of the elements came to circle around Aang violently.  Something whizzed by Katara’s head, nicking the skin on her ear.  She turned to see a rock the size of her head crash into a tree, crumbling to the ground.  More and more chunks of earth ripped from the ground and spiraled around Aang’s glowing body before hurtling toward everyone below.  With a sweep of his arm, he sent a ring of fire fanning out and grazing the moist earth with a hiss of steam.  Katara barely dodged the wall of flames with a water shield.

“Katara, now’s your chance!” Hakoda’s voice bellowed.  “Run for it!  Ozai won’t be able to stop you!”

Squinting against the wind and dirt, she leveled a grave look on him.  There was so much she could say but no words with which to say them.  He would never understand.  None of them ever would. 

She tore her gaze back to Aang, his lean muscles tight and bulging with the wrath etched into his face.  What had happened to the sweet, cheerful boy she once knew?  That spirit must have taken control of him.  It was the only explanation for the evil she now saw before her.  He was a prisoner in his own body.  He needed help.  And there was only one way that Katara could think to help him.

Ozai.

A gust of wind sent a choking cloud of dust at her face.  Katara coughed and tried to shout over the clamor.  “Whatever you plan to do with Aang, you better do it,” she hollered, “or he’ll crush us all to a pulp before you get a chance!”

“How do you suggest I do that?  He’s twenty feet in the air!”

A flaming fire ball whizzed between them and they barely had enough time to jump apart before it caught on loose clothing.  “I’ll help you if you promise me one thing!  Whatever you do, don’t kill him!”

Ozai didn’t respond at first.  She could feel her chest growing tight when finally he gave a grim nod.

The sound of screams tore through the clearing.  Through the fog of dirt and dust, Katara could only watch the horror unfold in terrifying slow motion.  Toph bent earth manacles at Aang’s hands and feet while Sokka simultaneously launched a boomerang attack.  Aang quickly and effortlessly smacked Toph’s manacles away and bent the earth up under her feet so quickly that she couldn’t counter.  She went flying and crashed into a nearby tree.  Her body fell limp to the ground.  The boomerang went reeling in a completely new direction on the winds.  It didn’t come back.  Appa was roaring through the mayhem to get Aang’s attention but he didn’t even seem to notice.  He was focused only on destruction and chaos. 

Suki, Genshi and Hakoda were doing all they could to dodge Aang’s attacks.  A suffocating ache was squeezing her chest.  Everyone she loved was falling around her, fighting for their lives, at Aang’s hand no less.  Katara saw Sokka crumble to the ground as a huge chunk of rock slammed into the side of his head.

“No!” she shrieked, running toward her brother.  A wall of fire came to block her path.  No sooner had she skidded to a stop than a shower of ice spikes rained down around her.  Katara tried to bend them away but they hailed down too quickly, too powerfully.  There was a deep, searing pain in her shoulder.  She cried out, clutching the wound through torn clothing.  It was already slick with warm blood.

The adrenaline was pumping the pain away as she dodged another blaze of fire, deflecting more chunks of ice and waves that nearly knocked her down.  Aang roared and Katara dug her feet into the ground as a damaging gust of wind forced her back.  He was giving her no room to steady herself and counter, she could barely keep up the defense.  If she didn’t find a window of opportunity to strike back soon, they were all done for.  Aang’s chest swelled with a deep breath and his arms drew back to ready what looked like a monstrous attack.  There was the slightest breath of a pause and Katara didn’t waste it.

She shot her arms out and stiffened her fingers, concentrating on the warm pulse throbbing under her control.  Aang roared, his arms slowing to a stop and trembling in mid-air.  Katara huffed, grinding her teeth, and struggled to hold her ground against Aang’s super human strength.  She could feel his chi churning and crashing inside him.  He was impossibly powerful right now.  She knew if it weren’t for the blood moon, she would have no chance against him.  Even now she felt his power matching hers and slowly prevailing.  She wouldn’t last long.  Ozai needed to move fast.

Her fingers curled with a groan as she forced every last scrap of energy into dragging Aang toward ground.  He was fighting her hard and her control was slipping.  Katara risked a glance at Ozai.  His ashen face had gone slack, his eyes wide – she had seen that look in Zuko’s eyes on her quest to avenge her mother.  Shock.  Fear.  Countless emotions in between.  Katara felt sick to her stomach with an odd mixture of shame and exhilaration.  She shoved it down and tried to think past it.

“Go now!” she shouted.  “I’ll hold him as long as I can!”

Ozai blinked away the shock and then gave a grim nod and shot off toward the roaring boy.  Aang’s feet touched the ground as Ozai grabbed hold of him forcefully, placing a thumb on his forehead and the middle of his sternum.  Katara waited in agony for something to happen.  Her arms were burning and shaking.  She ground her teeth, sweat pooling at her eyebrows and upper lip.  Aang’s body was starting to move against her force and all she could do was hold on helplessly as her strength drained away.  What was Ozai doing?  Why wasn’t it working?  If this failed, they were all done for.

Katara let out a groan as her arms fell limp, sapped of all her strength.  Dread turned to panic.  They had failed.  There was no way they could beat Aang in this condition.  Only then she noticed how their faces tilted toward the sky, how their mouths and eyes gaped open.  And suddenly blinding beams of red light burst from their eyes and mouth.  Katara screamed and scrambled back, clutching at her chest.  Thoughts blazed like a wildfire through her mind.  What was happening?  The sight was both breathtaking and horrifying.  It took her a moment to realize…  

Was Ozai energybending?!  How was that possible?! 

The red cast of the forest suddenly grew brighter, more intense.  She drew a breath and glanced up at the bleeding orb in the sky.  It wasn’t just glowing now.  It was beaming, like a beacon in the distance.  This place, this night… there had to be something about the way they intersected in space and time that changed the way energy behaved here.  Made it more powerful somehow.  How else was she able to hold her own against a powerful avatar with the added force of a spirit behind him?  She hadn’t thought about it in the moment, but there was no way she should have been able to do that.

The forest grew brighter still.  The beams of light from Ozai and Aang were so blinding Katara had to squint to look at them.  A strange sound, like the building scream of a kettle, was rising from somewhere she couldn’t place.  Both quiet and earsplitting; at once distant and yet too close, like it was rang inside her own ears. 

“Ah!”  Katara cupped her hands over her ears but it did nothing to dull the piercing sound.  There was a pressure around her head, painful, like her brain might melt out of her ears.  And then suddenly, with a resonant _whop_ the sound and pressure stopped.  And Ozai and Aang slumped lifeless to the ground.

“Ozai!” she shrieked, running to his side.  She threw her body over his, looking frantically from him to Aang.  His skin was slick with cold sweat.  Katara shook him, bent cold water onto his face, but his body was limp, completely unresponsive.  Cold dread was settling in the pit of her stomach.

The scuff of a footstep sounded behind her.  Katara stood and whirled around to see Sokka inching closer, his hands held up in a gesture of peace.

“Katara–”

“Stay back, all of you!  I won’t let you hurt him!”

Sokka froze for a moment.  “Katara.  Please.  We’re on your side.  We only want you safe.  Just… please,” he took another step forward, “come away from him–”

“I’m warning you!” she growled.  Her voice sounded detached, foreign, even to her.  For a moment her eyes caught on her father’s.  She choked back the hot tears.

Sokka looked at the others and then shook his head with a scoff, his brows drawn low.  “What’s happened to you?” the words scraped out.  “The Katara I know would never choose this… this _monster_ over her own flesh and blood!”

“Not one more step!  I mean it!”  Katara slid into offensive position, her eyes blazing with the threat of her words.

“Go ahead!” he barked.  “You think I’m backing down without a fight?  I came this far to find my sister.  I’m not leaving without her now.”  Sokka took a challenging step forward, his arm reaching out to her. 

With a sharp groan, Katara ripped every drop of water from the forest around her.  She felt the trees and grass and foliage dry up, wither to dust at her fingertips.  Her eyes stung with hot tears as her lip quivered, teeth clenched.  And then, channeling every fiber of her energy, she blasted the torrent of water at those she had loved – in a different time, in a different life.  

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

A muted voice echoed somewhere in the corners of his mind as Ozai stood, staggering against the spinning white void.  His head was pounding and his body felt foreign, weightless, like it wasn’t fully bound to him.  Ozai tried to focus, but it seemed a long time before the world stopped swirling long enough from him to gain his bearings.  When he finally did, all he could see in any direction was a stark, flat landscape, scattered with weathered, crooked rock formations.  No life.  No sound, not even the wind. 

The horizon began to wrinkle, as though rippling with the heat of late summer.  In the center, a familiar hair-raising form took shape.  Ozai recognized it as the same strange stag spirit that had appeared to him and Katara in the underground demon pit.  The one that had urged him on, had assured it was on his side.

“Fire Lord Ozai,” came the voice again, clearer this time.  “Welcome to the spirit world.”  The creature walked toward him slowly, its macabre face frozen in that half-smile.  It stopped a short distance before him, gawking with those six red, unblinking eyes.

 “Or rather should I say… Avatar Ozai.”


	32. Chapter 32

Pain, deep and cold and fathomless. Zuko bobbed helplessly at the surface of consciousness, the pain dragging him back under. Engulfing darkness. He struggled, like clawing his way to the top of an endless abyss. A futile tug of war.

A face, soft yet strong, blue eyes smiling. It flickered at the edge of his mind and he gasped, clawing a handful of cold, moist earth. He tried to cry out but all he could muster was a strangled groan.

_ Katara _ .

Zuko rolled onto his stomach, his breaths sharp and ragged, and forced himself up onto his forearms. Moisture mixed with old blood dripped from the matted hair on his forehead, down the bridge of his nose. He tasted sweat and dirt on his lip as he tried to sit up, groaning. The world started spinning uncontrollably and he retched. Several minutes passed as Zuko sat there, dragging in air, before things seemed to steady enough for him to get his bearings. As quickly as he could, he staggered his way to his feet, swaying.

He squinted as his eyes focused. Forest surrounded him on all sides, disorienting. But the night glowed a red so bright – was it brighter than before? – that it didn't take him long to spot the two sets of footprints leading off into the woods from where he stood. And, stumbling at first, he took off after them.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

"Avatar," Ozai smirked, looking into the stag spirit's six unblinking eyes. "I rather like the sound of that. I suppose I have you to thank for getting me this far. And somehow I doubt you did it of your own goodwill."

"Ah, your brains do match your brawn," Jaaku droned, his tone ripe with sarcasm.

"So what is it you want?" Ozai said sharply, cutting to the chase. He was in no mood to play games.

"And here I thought it would be quite obvious."

Ozai leveled a hard frown on Jaaku but held his tongue, waiting for an explanation.

"Nothing in this world comes free, you know. I plan to take a share of that power you possess. Oh, the havoc I could wreak with even a drop of such power. It makes me giddy at the very thought. It will go so much easier if you give it, of course, but I'll have it either way. So tell me, shall we do this the easy way?"

"If you think you'll get so much as a drop from me, you are gravely mistaken," Ozai growled through clenched teeth.

Jaaku sighed heavily. "It would seem you're not as smart as I took you for. Pity."

Before Ozai could blink, Jaaku lunged and was on him. In an instant his body enlarged to three times his size and his hooved feet transformed into enormous wolf-like paws. A pair of powerful clawed arms burst from either side of his chest. His faintly smiling mask-face split open to reveal a gaping mouth full of razor sharp teeth, dripping with noxious frothy sputum.

Ozai choked on the fumes and shoved him back, rolling out from under him only to be tackled again, the spirit's jagged claws digging into his skin. Jaaku's six red eyes rolled back in his head as he stabbed with his antlers. Ozai dodged but his weakness was palpable next to Jaaku. In the spirit world, he was still shaky and lacked control. His mind and body were separate and it took more focus than he had realized to maneuver in such a state.

They wrestled, and Ozai's stomach lurched as he felt something pressing into his core. The spirit was trying to reach inside him. If he could possess him he could take his power and Ozai would be helpless to stop him. His heart started racing and Ozai struggled against Jaaku's grasp, crying out at the sickening pain. He had worked too hard to become the vessel for this monster. The prize was his alone, he couldn't let this  _thing_  steal what he had achieved with his own sweat and blood.

Ozai pushed back against the spirit's probing essence and brought his feet up under him. He summoned all the power he could muster in one blow and kicked Jaaku off so hard that he felt the nauseating snap of the spirit's life force being plucked out of him like a severed line. And before Jaaku could lunge at him again, Ozai closed his eyes, focusing on his body where it laid in the physical world and propelled himself forward. He gave a sharp cry as he burst from the spirit world with a searing pain. His spirit and body collided with a jolt and for a moment there was only darkness.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Katara ducked as a huge wedge of earth zoomed past her head. Toph didn't waste a second and sent another massive slab flying that Katara almost couldn't dodge. It skimmed through her wind-blown hair, nicking her skin before it crashed into a tree behind her. She lashed out a double waterwhip and then a rain of ice spikes, breaking the earthbender's next attack, but the younger girl quickly bounced back. With a quick thrust of her arm she shot a pillar of earth up under Katara's feet and sent her flying through the air. Her back collided with the ground, the air sucked from her lungs as she wheezed and gasped for air.

"It's called tough love, Sugar Queen. I'm not gonna hold your hand anymore and try to talk sense into you while you act like a little brat. No, I'm gonna beat you into the ground till you come to your senses."

Katara rolled to her side, clawing the earth as she coughed and caught her breath. It was only then in that lingering moment that she noticed the forms of her loved ones sprawled across the ground.

"I don't think you really wanna fight me," Toph gloated, hands on her hips. "You know you don't stand a chance. So just give it up and let us deal with the loser lord like he deserves."

"Were you too busy picking your toenails, Mudslug?" she rasped, staggering to her feet. "I just bloodbended an avatar. I can take you."

"Yeah… and you almost lost." Toph paused and shook her head, a deep scowl cutting across her face, uncharacteristically serious. "Look at your friends! Your family! Look what you've done to them! Is this really what you want?"

Katara ground her teeth and felt something inside her snap. "Shut  _up_!" In an instant, she swept her arms in a wide arc and a surge of icy water tore from the foliage toward the earthbender. With a grunt, Toph struck a pose but before she could block the attack, the water encircled her from the neck down, freezing on contact. Katara stood there, breathing hard in the moment that followed. An avalanche of curses were spewing from the younger girl but Katara couldn't make sense of the words. Her body suddenly felt so heavy and the world was blurring, smears of greens and browns and that ominous red. Only then did she finally notice the deep throbbing in her shoulder, the raw pain. And then she remembered. Swaying, she looked down to see a gaping wound through torn fabric, the entire left half of her tunic stained red. She could see bone. Blood was still trickling generously from the gash. White spots floated in her vision as she sank to her knees, holding herself up with her hands to keep from collapsing completely.

"Katara, you need help. That's all we came here to do." Toph's voice echoed from somewhere far away. "But I can't do that when I'm neck deep in ice." She was speaking in a strangely gentle tone. "Back off with the ice and we'll call a truce. I'll help you pack the wound and stop the bleeding and you'll come away with us. Deal?"

It was getting harder to breathe. Her arms trembled and then gave out and she crumpled to the ground. Katara closed her eyes, trying to fight the darkness. She did need help and she was too weak to heal herself. But if she withdrew the attack, Toph would force her from Ozai against her will. On the other hand, if she didn't call off the attack, she would most likely die and none of that would matter anyway. She didn't really have a choice.

Tears pooled in her eyes as Katara gave a weak flick of her wrist and the ice liquefied to a puddle at the earthbender's feet. Not a moment later, there came a deep groan from somewhere behind her. Katara turned her head and her heart jumped. Ozai was rolling onto his side, pulling himself to his feet. He staggered at first before catching his balance and his eyes widened as he studied her lying on the ground.

"Ozai," Katara managed in a breath. "You're okay."

His eyes flicked to Toph, fury drawing his brows low over his eyes, and then back to Katara. "What did they do to you?" He knelt down next to her, quickly assessing her cuts and bruises and the gaping wound on her shoulder before carefully dragging her into his arms. She cried out in pain as he applied firm pressure to slow the bleeding. "I got what I came for. Now I'm getting you out of here."

"Think again!" Before Ozai could lift Katara, Toph stomped and sent a boulder flying. Ozai managed to dodge it, barely. He sprung lithely onto his hands as he dove out of range and, with a spinning kick, shot a wall of flames at her in return.

"What the–?" Toph ducked as fire roared over her head and singed several strands of hair.

Katara gasped. He was firebending! It had actually worked. She wasn't sure if it was the fire he'd reclaimed, or something else entirely, but there was something different about him. A change in his energy. He was more terrifying somehow, more powerful. She could sense it as he stood over her, glaring fiercely at Toph with a sharp smile upon his lips. Katara glanced sidelong at Aang still crumpled unmoving on the ground. What had Ozai done to him?

Toph stood up slowly, hands cocked on her hips, and flashed Ozai a brassy smirk. "Loser Lord's got his firebending back. Not sure how you swung that, but I guess it'll make it all the more humiliating when you get crushed by a little girl!"

There was a heaviness in the pit of Katara's stomach. Something warned her that this would be a losing battle.

"Toph," she coughed weakly, "you don't know what you're doing."

"Stay outta this, Katara. It's time your sugar daddy found out what happens when he messes with my friends!" She punched her fist into her palm and stomped the ground. Earth came up to swallow Ozai's feet, locking him in place and with another stomp, a chunk of earth levitated before her. With a nod of her head it shattered into countless shards, firing a barrage of tiny deadly bullets at Ozai.

In an instant, he broke out of the attack and raised a wall of rock with a sharp bend of his arms, the shards raining against it with a powerful clattering. In the stunned silence that followed, he let it fall back to the ground as he tore water up from the earth at her feet, snaking it around her legs and freezing it before she knew what had happened.

"Quite a big mouth for such a tiny little whelp. Unfortunately, words won't save you and those pitiful attacks won't go far. Not against a powerful avatar."

Ozai met Toph's wide-eyed shock with a wry smirk. She looked sidelong at Aang, a rare hint of fear in the hard line of her brows. Toph opened her mouth to speak but a sudden blast of air caught her without warning and sent her flying back against a tree. Wheezing, she rolled out of the way just as a ball of fire exploded in her place, sending shards of bark flying. The blast flattened her against the ground and Ozai was already rushing at her. Toph scrambled to her feet just in time to counter another attack and in the instant that followed, drove sharp spikes of earth up around him with violent force.

Almost effortlessly he sprung up, levitating on an air current high above the ground. His mouth twisted into a grin and, to Katara's horror, his eyes began to glow a terrifying red. A sudden wind whipped through the clearing, thrashing the trees together. There was a terrible groaning and snapping as the trees began to bow, the roots breaking free from the ground like long, knobby fingers.

Toph rose a column of earth up under her feet to Ozai's level and shot off three disks of earth, one after another. But Ozai deflected them with unnatural ease and sent them flying back at Toph with deadly speed. Toph barely dodged the first, but the second caught her square in the chest and she cried out as she fell from the column to the ground far below. She struggled weakly and then her body slumped back on the ground.

"Ozai! Please, stop!" Katara croaked but she was too weak and her voice was captured by the wind. What energy she'd had left was spent and she closed her eyes as her cheek rested on the dank earth. A tear trickled over the bridge of her nose.

What felt like a pair of hands rested down on her shoulders and turned her carefully onto her back. Katara's eyes fluttered open. She must be hallucinating. She'd lost too much blood and she knew her life was draining away. So she let herself sink deeper into the dream as a hand came up to caress her face.

"It's okay," Zuko whispered. "I'm here. You're going to be okay." He rested her back down softly as the world faded to black.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

Zuko choked back tears as he placed Katara gently back on the soft earth and stood, looking up in horror at Ozai levitating in the air, that evil grin and his red glowing eyes slicing him through. How was this possible? Was he… an avatar?!

"I honestly didn't think I'd see you again." Ozai's voiced boomed across the clearing. Different somehow, alien, like it wasn't his own. And it wasn't. There was a long line of Avatars bonded to his soul now. "I guess I get to have the pleasure of destroying you twice."

"I don't think so," Zuko yelled back. "This ends now. I'll make sure of that." He glared with unbridled rage at the man he once called father.

Ozai chuckled. "This should be interesting." A wicked grin splayed ear to ear as Ozai spread his arms with such ironic grace and then water was bursting from the tree tops around them, the shrubbery at their feet, the leaves and branches shriveling to nothing in an instant. The powerful wave of water shot forward and Zuko was knocked back hard, tumbling, suffocating as the impact filched the air from his lungs. But crushing as the blow was, the fight in him was stronger. It burned fiercer as he found his footing and in an instant launched an enormous cyclone of fire.

Ozai spun a blast of air into the tempest and flames erupted and scattered like confetti through the clearing, but Zuko was already attacking again. His rage burned hotter and carried him forward as he lunged and kicked again and again, powerful bursts of flame exploding on impact. Ozai moved unnaturally fast, dodging and snaking through the attacks with ease. He hardly even flinched and there was no sign of duress or weakening as he countered with an arcing surge of lightning so quickly that Zuko felt the sparks of electricity at his heels as he barely managed to jump away. The blast at his feet slammed him to the ground and by the time Zuko flipped onto his back, the earth came up around him to swallow his wrists and feet. He couldn't move and the throbbing ache in his head had returned with a vengeance.

Zuko blinked, the landscape going in and out of focus. Ozai towered over him, hovering on a powerful air current.

"Once a failure, always a failure," he growled, his lips curling over his teeth. "Even the woman you've risked your life to save has rejected you. She's mine now. She  _chose_  me. And as for you…" His eyes were hard, flinty, as a malicious grin split his face. "I will relish every moment as I slowly suck your life away, erasing your miserable existence. I will watch you suffer and then I will throw you away like a disease-infested rag and never think of you again."

Ozai held his elbows wide, chest thrust out, as he trained a powerful hand on him. Zuko could feel the energy at Ozai's fingertips tugging at his life force. He could feel his own essence leaking out of his body, slowly, agonizing, like air through a tiny hole in a balloon, and he clenched his teeth against the scream that was building. He wouldn't give his father the satisfaction. His head was pounding with excruciating pressure and his stomach roiled, nauseous. He turned his head and vomited. And then through his blurring vision he could see Katara lying unconscious only a few strides away. And he couldn't save her. He couldn't save her.

_ He couldn't save her… _

Sweat mixed with tears as it dripped down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, his muscles trembling from the agony, the weakness as his energy was sucked away. And then suddenly there was a jolt and a shudder, like a tightly pulled string being severed. A horrifying scream cut across the clearing and Zuko opened his eyes to see his father contorted in the air above him, pain carved into his face. His red eyes blazed and Zuko blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all. And then he saw it. The tip of a blade protruding from Ozai's chest, blood starting to trickle freely from the wound.

His eyes darted, looking for the assailant, and he found him standing at the edge of the clearing. A man, not much older than himself, fists trembling as he scowled at Ozai who shrieked like a chorus of banshees as he came plummeting to the ground. The blazing red was extinguished like a blown-out candle and his father was finally still. The tyrant, the world's most dangerous threat to date, was finally gone.

The shackles on his limbs crumbled into earth and Zuko sat up slowly, cringing at the pain. The man turned his gaze on Zuko. His bronze eyes were cold and hard but softened briefly with a nod of his head. And then he turned and was gone through the wall of decimated trees.

Zuko blinked at the sudden stillness, the quiet so deafening it rang in his ears. Wincing, he forced himself up and limped over to wear Katara lay motionless. He knelt at her side and his stomach turned to lead. The ground around her was black and slick with blood. She looked so pale and cold and…

_ Oh gods, no. _

Frantically, he tore a strip of cloth from her tattered tunic and wrapped it around the wound tightly, and then placed his hands on her wrists, her neck, looking for a pulse, any sign that there was still life in her. Her skin felt cold and clammy. He waited for that flutter beneath his fingertips. Waited, begging her heart to beat. There was nothing.

His throat tightened and he was suffocating. "No, Katara. No." The ragged words choked out as he placed his hands on her icy chest, willing the heat from his hands into her heart. An eternity passed as he held his breath and still there was nothing. Zuko clenched his teeth as he gave into the tears strangling him and rested his forehead on hers with a sob. "Don't do this. Please. Don't leave me when I finally have you back." He choked on the tears as he ran his fingertips up to her neck one last time.

Something trembled beneath his touch, so faintly he almost missed it. Zuko's breath hitched in his throat as he blinked, waiting. Had he imagined it? And then it came again, stronger this time. Her heart was weak but it was beating. A strangled laugh-cry resonated in his chest and he cupped her cheeks as her eyes fluttered open to slits. She took in a breath and his name came in a shaky whisper.

Zuko rested his forehead on hers again. "It's okay. It's over. I'm here now."

Something rustled at the tree line and Zuko looked to see Appa emerge, limping, spots of his fur scorched, the skin beneath bubbled and blistering. The bison stopped beside them and knelt down, offering his saddle. Carefully, Zuko cradled Katara in his arms and transferred her to the saddle. When she was situated and he had a moment to breathe again, he rubbed Appa's snout and quickly looked around for the others. He found Toph between the roots of an enormous tree, badly bruised but breathing. He patted her cheeks and she opened her eyes, looking around dazed as Zuko helped her into the saddle.

He went to Sokka and Hakoda next, grateful to find them alive, though badly injured. He found the conjurer, Genshi, a short distance from them, unconscious but breathing.

Appa spotted Aang before he did. Hobbling over, the bison nudged the boy with his muzzle, whimpering. When he didn't move, Appa nudged him harder, rolling him to his side. Zuko rushed over, half braced for an attack as Aang groaned awake. But the boy only blinked weakly through heavy-lidded eyes. He didn't even try to sit up.

"What happened?" he croaked out. "My whole body feels like it's on fire." There was no sign of the rage that had possessed him before. He was simply Aang again and Zuko knew then that everything would be okay.

"Let's just get us out of here," Zuko said as he helped him to his feet. The two of them climbed into the saddle and after a bumpy start Appa managed to carry them into the air. Zuko sat back with a ragged sigh and stroked Katara's brow as the island shrank to a black speck on the scarlet-crested waves below.

.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.

"How is he?" Zuko stood in the doorway, watching the healers bend over Aang's motionless body. His chest moved with slow, shallow breaths.

The healers – three middle-aged women – stood and bowed as Zuko entered the room. One of them, a woman named Yunbo, clasped her hands before her and spoke. "The Avatar is in critical condition, but he is stabilizing. We expect him to pull through. We feared the avatar cycle had been broken, but –" she shook her head, her forehead puckering, "I can't explain it, it's unfathomable – we can feel his avatar spirit radiating weakly inside him even after having been severed from him. The cycle isn't broken. The Avatar lives."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. "Thank the spirits."

"It's impossible really. The only explanation is that it must have returned to him when Ozai was killed in the Avatar state. Having come to possess the Avatar spirit unnaturally, part of it was still technically bound to Aang's soul. And there it returned."

Zuko placed his hand on the woman's shoulder and smiled warmly at the healers. "Thank you all. Aang would never have made it without you."

The healers bowed as Zuko closed the door behind him with a soft click. Everyone was expected to make a full recovery. Hakoda and Sokka were already up walking around, helping tend to the others in the infirmary. Toph was still bed-ridden, though much to her disgruntlement. The healers complained of her stubbornness and on more than one occasion he had overheard her bossing them around. He was far too grateful that his friend was alive to care about her manners.

Zuko looked across the hall from where he stood, the pale morning sunlight filtering through the crack under the opposite door. Katara hadn't woken since he brought her here four days ago. A stress-induced coma, the healers said. One of them called it broken-heart syndrome. The idea that she could be brokenhearted at the loss of his evil, manipulative father sickened him, crushed him.

Zuko hadn't left her side except for political obligations and to check on Aang. He had been up since before sunrise attending early morning meetings to brief his commanders on Ozai, avatars, and the almost end of the world. The Battle of the Blood Moon people were calling it. Already they were singing songs and writing tales about it. Romanticizing it. They could never imagine how close they had truly come to the end of everything.

It had been several hours since he had checked on Katara. He rested his hand on the doorknob for a moment before he finally opened it quietly and slipped in. Zuko had given her the best room in the infirmary. The room was bright and lined with windows, a stunning view of Caldera City far below. As he closed the door behind him, a lump formed in his throat. Two shimmering sapphire eyes gazed back at him. They looked different somehow – older, sadder – but they were still Katara's eyes.

Their gaze lingered, the moment stretching on for what felt like an eternity. He didn't know what to say and silence was rushing in to fill the space between them.

"Hi," he said at last in a breath.

A smile ghosted on her lips. "Hi."

He walked over to her bedside and sat down, gently taking her hand in his own. "How are you feeling?"

She searched his eyes and her mouth worked, looking for the words. But no words came. A single tear slipped down her cheek and carved something out of him. Zuko squeezed her hand gently and pulled her into him, holding her head to his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Katara." His heart ached for her and the pain she had been through. If he could turn the hourglass of time, move even a single grain of sand to spare her this anguish, he would. She looked like a withered flower on its last petal of life, her hand resting limply in his. Broken, cast down, yet still alive against all odds.

"Is he–" The words cut off in her throat, strangled with emotion. Zuko's lips pressed together and he could only nod as another tear trailed down her face.

Had she loved him? Zuko's stomach clenched at the thought and part of him wanted to ask but he decided that it didn't matter. Some things were better left unsaid. Whatever had happened, whatever she had felt for Ozai was for her alone to know. He was gone and hopefully so was the spell he had cast on her.

All that mattered now was that she was here again, safe. And if there was one thing he knew, it was that Katara never gave up. She would come out the other side of this, maybe a little bruised and scarred, but stronger for it all. She always did. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

And someday she would be his again, if she would have him. He prayed that she would.

Zuko's eyes brushed over her face, beautiful even in sadness. He rubbed his thumb gently along her hand. "Do you remember the time we saw that play on Ember Island? The one about us?"

Katara huffed weakly and a small smile turned up her lips. "Yeah. It was awful."

"It was," he conceded. "But I loved every minute of it. It was the closest I'd been to you for any length of time. I remember how the closeness between us felt electrified, like the air just before a thunderstorm. And I got to sit there for hours, listening to your intoxicating laugh,  _accidentally_  brushing against you once in a while."

She blinked and her mouth went wide in a smile. "You did that on purpose?"

"Aang was so upset when I sat down beside you before he could," Zuko laughed. "But it was my only chance. I was up against a worthy competitor. And I was already falling hard for you by that point. I just didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid part of you still hated me."

"I definitely didn't hate you then," she said, the semblance of a smile melting away.

"And what about now?"

Katara's eyebrows knit together and her gaze flitted away briefly. "Zuko, I–"

He shook his head, squeezing her hand lightly to stop her. "It's okay. You need some time. I can't imagine what you're going through right now." He reached up to graze his fingertips over her cheek. "But know that nothing that's happened could change the way I feel about you. I love you, Katara. I always have and I always will. And if you're ever ready to open your heart again–"

She reached up and held his palm against her cheek, leaning into it. Her stormy eyes met his and tugged at his soul. There was a glint of life in them now where moments ago there was only sadness. Hope plucked at the strings of his heart.

Katara reached her other hand up to cup the scarred side of his face. The space between them grew smaller and Zuko's blood pumped faster. She drew him into her until their noses touched, her lips hovering just out of reach of his. She smelled like snow on the wind. His eyes fluttered closed, feeling her breath, warm and soft, on his face.

Like a spider that keeps spinning in the dark, despite all the times its web is torn apart, so they would rise again, together; braver, stronger versions of who they once were. And when their lips met, it was with all the purity and passion of a butterfly's breath, a fiery tenderness, promises of days past and the future that stretched before them, waiting to be discovered.


End file.
